The Darkest Knight
by Covington
Summary: Bruce Wayne is struggling to keep himself and Batman separate but, when a strange man enters an, already corrupted, Gotham, Kidnaps Bruce and Kills Batman There is little for Bruce Wayne to do but fight for his survival. Story completed.
1. Bruce

Bruce Wayne stood over the grave of his parents; there was never really anything to say at this point. He'd just stand there and think, think about what he had accomplished, what he hadn't accomplished, the state of the city, the country, the world. He thought about the people he cared about: Selena, Alfred and Gordon. However there were two things he never thought about: The night they were killed and the obvious elephant in the room: Batman.

His relationship with Batman was taking its toll finally; Bruce Wayne was becoming less real than Batman. In the beginning he said: "only at night can Batman exist" but things had changed so much. Crime was outrageous; the stars in the night sky were not the only stars the criminals waited for. They used the sun now, they hid in the brightness and Batman was forced to appear as well. In the last three months Batman had ended seventeen serial criminals' reigns and Bruce Wayne had missed thirty five, important, executive meetings at Wayne enterprises. If it weren't for the grace of Alfred he might have been out of the job. Bruce knew something had to be done about Batman, instead of being a crutch for Gotham he was becoming the crippling factor. The people were beginning to rely on Batman to solve all their problems. The same was happening in Metropolis, Superman was saving everyone and everything. The difference was: Superman didn't get tired, Superman didn't have to go to important meetings and keep a large cooperation afloat, Superman's alter ego didn't live in the limelight as well, they could live together in one place but Batman and Bruce Wayne could not.

The sun glared into his eyes for a moment, before the clouds went in front of it again, it had been a good week since Bruce had gone out into daylight. To be more exact it had been a good week since Bruce Wayne had gone out at all. His last adventure had landed him in bed for recovery. Chasing the strange crook with a fetish for a doll, who'd only identify himself as 'Scarface', was more exhausting than he had anticipated, it also left him very battered and bruised. Falling off of a fifty story building to the thirty ninth floor would do that to you though.

The worse thing was that he couldn't wear any kind of recovery material outside, his excuse of being hurt in automobile accidents and skiing trips were becoming too common; plus it broke his heart to have to crash the Rolls Royce for evidence of his lie. Right now his left arm and ribs were pounding and he was becoming dizzy. It was time to go; if he stayed any longer he'd probably faint. Stiffly he turned a hundred and eighty degrees and squinted in the light to see the car. It wasn't that far, so he walked. The trees every so often would cast a shadow on him that would remind him of the shadows the buildings made on him at night when he was stalking someone. Bruce shivered at the thought; this was the type of thing that bothered him. Normal people would walk under the shadow of a tree and not think twice about it, but when he did it became a reminded of Batman. It seemed that, slowly, Batman was consuming Bruce Wayne.

Bruce reached forward and opened the car door and quickly got in.

"Master Bruce…" Alfred Started. "…I'm terribly sorry I didn't even notice you walking back." Alfred went on.

"Its fine Alfred, I can open a door by myself." Bruce Answered light heartedly to Alfred.

"This week you can…" Selena added. "…last week you couldn't even say door because you were so messed up." Selena added a bit of anger and caring to her voice, which Bruce detected. He didn't enjoy lying to her, he just had to.

"Well I'm an easy patient…" Bruce added. "…plus I was in shock last week, hitting that tree really took the wind out of me." He lied to her some more.

"Well, I'm not a doctor, but I'd suggest no more skiing for a while." Selena Kyle said defiantly.

"Well I don't know…" Bruce started to explain. "…a lot of my clients like to ski, and for the interest of the company I may have to." Bruce explained, after a couple of moments of no answer he looked at her to see she had looked away. He sighed, he'd angered her and once he'd done that he knew there was little he could do about it until later. "…well I guess I can lay off of skiing for a while."

"Let's just hope that no one forcing you to ski anytime soon." Alfred answered from the front of the car. The words hit Bruce and brought him back to reality, he looked outside his window to his parent's grave.

"…Let's hope." He said.

After, a quick and quiet lunch with Selena, Bruce knew he needed to mend some things in his other life. As much as Batman got in the way of his life he still needed to keep Batman in good condition, above all protecting the people is what he felt strongly for. Gotham had fallen into a slump years ago and, only recently, was it beginning to come out of it and slowly at that. The smaller crimes had drastically gone down, and it was clear why. The fear of Batman had seeped into the inner city and all around. Petty thieves were afraid of encountering him, coming up against Batman was not worth a few bucks. However the bigger crimes had slowly risen. Murder, rapes, serial killings, kidnappings, large robberies had all become more common and what was most upsetting about it were the people doing it. Critics of society had said it was Batman's fault, that these imaginative villains had gain the courage to be so flamboyant from Batman. Gordon said not to listen to those "clowns" but Bruce knew in a way they were right. "Killer Croc", "The Creep", "Scarecrow" and "Scarface" All of them were extravagant, deadly, criminals and had been a rather sharp thorn in Batman's side. It seemed when one was stopped another more deranged one appeared, each one more bloodthirsty than the next. The dynamic was sad, Bruce felt if Batman wasn't around then these embellished crooks wouldn't exist, but since the chain had started he couldn't take Batman away because Batman was the only one, now, who could stop them.

The Gotham police had their hands tied in politics, Batman didn't subscribe to politics and there were a lot of people who felt that because he didn't he couldn't be trusted. "What if he becomes a renegade?" some asked, what if Batman turned on the people? Batman had no morals, no sense of compassion so what would stop him from becoming the people he fought. Bruce often thought about this; there were parts of this that were true. It was relieving not to have to succumb to politics when dealing with scum Bruce felt a wave of pressure relieved from him when he was doing that. So what was keeping him from becoming like the people he fought against? Bruce Wayne had morals, so in a way Bruce Wayne and Batman weren't always separated, slowly, but surely, their lives were crossing and Bruce knew that this would mean the end for one of them.

Selena complicated things; though they'd been dating for sometime now, Bruce knew they couldn't be farther apart. His life was a mystery to her, and she knew he was hiding something from her. She never asked though, that's what kept them living separate. He with his huge mansion, Alfred and Batman who roamed in his mind all the time waiting to be free but laid trapped in the back of his mind and in his elaborate basement and her with her small studio apartment and cats.

One day he asked her why she had so many cats, what was so appealing about them over something like a dog or a bird, and instead of answering she asked him what was so appealing about bats. He worried she might be suspecting, but he knew she didn't know.

The cold air that rushed at him when he reached the thirty sixth step was no longer any surprise. From there the "Bat cave" could be seen in all its glory. It had taken more than a year to finish constructing and was the living place of Batman. To Bruce this was the only place that Batman was more real than Bruce Wayne. There were still similar things between the two one of them being Alfred who was more often in the 'Bat Cave" than not. Right now he was leaning over one of the suits and taking a good look at it. Wayne could tell from looking at the expression on his face that it was the last suit he wore.

"Is it repairable?" Bruce asked coming to the last step; Alfred looked up unsurprised and gave a weak frown.

"It'll take a while to repair it…" Alfred started; he looked back down at it. "…if anything happens in the next few weeks you'll need to wear a new one" He concluded.

"How many do I have left?" Bruce asked. Alfred looked over to his right where the extra suits were kept.

"Two sir" Alfred answered, Bruce frowned.

"I used eight already?" Bruce asked.

"Yes…" Alfred answered. "…Killer croc ripped of the chest of the first one, then the back off the second and damaged the head a bit, then creep set fire to the third, ripped the arm off the fourth, electrocuted the fifth, Scarecrow put a huge gash on the sixth one and ruined the entire left side, and Scarface shot up the seventh and the glass from the fall ruined this one." Alfred explained; Bruce frowned going over each event in his head slowly making sure they were true. Not that Alfred would lie, but could he remember them all? To his surprise he did and not only that but he remembered them in vivid detail. These people were vicious, Killer croc was just a psychopath who maimed his enemies in a fashion much like his namesake. Croc assumed to put his power to a more lucrative purpose. Robbing banks in and around Gotham became his passion and it had gone too far before Batman got involved. Only assuming to meet a common thief with an ambitious attitude; Batman jumped into the challenge. Batman's ambitiousness left Bruce Wayne with a concussion, two broken ribs, a torn muscle and a fractured jaw. The stories changed villains but the results turned out to be the same. Batman would take down the villain and Bruce Wayne would suffer the consequences.

Bruce grabbed the suit and pulled at it a little to see if it was durable.

"At this rate I'm going to have to be more careful." Bruce said; Alfred nodded distantly.

"Perhaps Batman should be less adventurous and stealthier." Alfred suggested; Bruce looked at his old butler but not with the eyes of a master to a servant but more of a child to their parent. Alfred had been dropping hints recently about his disappointment in Batman, Bruce usually let it slide because he had the same thoughts but now he wanted to know what exactly he was prodding at.

"…How so Alfred?" Bruce asked; Alfred stood tall in his dignified speech stance, which Bruce was so accustomed to.

"Well, if you ask me, Master Bruce, Batman is not supposed to be the solider everyone's demanding him to be…" Alfred moved closer to Bruce. "…Batman started as a symbol to protect this city from villainy, something that was both physical and mental. Something that even if destroyed the name would go beyond what this suit…" He roughly held up the suit almost with disgust. "…could ever do but now Batman has become a man in a suit and as far as he goes these new animals appear." Alfred explained; Bruce nodded.

"I know Alfred but what am I supposed to do…?" Bruce asked. "…Am I supposed to take Batman away; the people have become too accustomed to Batman they can't survive on their own; they need a-" Bruce started

"A savior, a god?" Alfred suggested; Bruce frowned.

"I was going to say a protector" Bruce explained; Alfred nodded and stepped closer to Bruce.

"That's just as bad, if you don't mind my saying, Master Bruce…" Alfred said. "…What the people don't need is a protector but rather a means to protect themselves. When Batman came along he was a symbol for the people to know that they didn't have to stand the corruptness of this city, but now he's become a Halloween parlor act a reason for people not to stand up for themselves, he's become a celebrity." Alfred finished; Bruce sighed, everything he said resounded deep inside of him. He agreed with Alfred in everyway, the only thing was that Batman was more powerful than Bruce Wayne in many ways.

"Well Alfred for now Batman is going to have to take it a little easier so that Bruce Wayne can get his life together." Bruce answered truthfully; Alfred put his hand on Bruce's shoulder.

"That sounds good to me." He simply answered.

No sooner than Alfred finished speaking did the television catch both of their eyes. On it was a high speed car chase going through southern Gotham; Bruce went over and turned the volume up. The report explained that the chase had been going on for a little over a half hour from all the way in northern Gotham to southern Gotham.

"They're trying to leave the city…" Bruce said. "…they're leaving via Gotham Tunnel" Bruce explained.

"They're not trying to lose the police…" Alfred said. "…They're trying to get away from Batman" Alfred explained.

"I know…" Bruce sighed. "…I'll get dressed"


	2. Batman

The car raced well over seventy miles per hour down old Gotham road. Old Gotham road was essentially the last straight-a-way left in Gotham, it lead straight to Junction and Mortimer which, if a left was taken, lead to Gotham tunnel, which in turn lead out of the city. This wasn't a sport car however and going seventy was pushing the limit of the car and as the engine groaned so did the driver.

"How much is it?!" The driver yelled as loud as he could over the heavy breathing of the car.

"I don't know yet…!" one of the back seat passengers yelled back. "…so far it's twenty five thousand!"

"Hot damn…!" The driver yelled; he couldn't contain his glee. Twenty five thousand dollars! Ice cold at that! This was the perfect plan and if he wasn't so focused on driving he would have patted himself on the back. "…we pulled it of Brosky!" He yelled into the back seat.

"Hell yeah we did…!" The second back seat passenger yelled. "…I gotta say Samson that was one hell of a plan!" he finished.

Samson Jardner gave a head motion with his head that reflected his own satisfaction with the plan. Samson wasn't a bad looking guy, he was popular in high school everyone thought that right after he'd be a model but life got in the way. He didn't become a model, he didn't have any money and being a starving entertainer wasn't what he wanted to do. Samson turned to petty theft and after the first time he stole something he got away with it he figured it was the occupation for him. Everything was fine in the first six months, Samson created somewhat of a craft at stealing. He was beginning to gain a reputation and the locals were starting to call him the "magician" because he was able to make their money, valuable and himself disappear. However when he got a year into it Batman appeared for the first time. Samson knew this guy wasn't a joke and he had to be even more careful when stealing. The problem was that the people were getting more vigilant and stealing from them got a lot harder but he noticed that where the people got more aware the companies began to look away so he started with bigger crimes. Robbing stores and banks seemed to be even more his forte than anything. Samson was quick and decisive and he always could tell what prey would bow to his demands. The larger thefts required some help so he recruited somewhat of a troupe of thieves to work with him. Originally there were for and they called themselves the _IV Thieves_ but one of them didn't comply with the rules of teamwork and was dealt with accordingly. Now there were three of them.

The one counting the money was the newer of the recruits and his name was Dale. Samson wasn't very fond of Dale, for Samson, Dale, was too much of a coward. Dale fretted about everything and in turn it made Samson on edge but on the flip side of it Dale was smart and quick. When it came down to getting the job done Dale was able to create an entrance plan and an exit plan easily. He was useful but his voice went straight through Samson sometimes.

The other one sitting in the back seat excitedly waiting to get out of the city was 'Brosky'. He'd gotten his name as an abbreviation of his real name: Broddock Skylvian. Everyone took the name and shortened it and Samson never thought about calling him anything but Brosky. Samson liked Brosky a hell of a lot more than Dale. Brosky was ruthless; he'd snatch the chain off his own grandmother's neck if he knew he could pawn it for a case of beer. He was the muscle in the operations; Brosky was the one not afraid to shoot off a gun in the middle of an operation to quiet everyone down. Brosky was a hard looking guy but still attractive. He had fine, shining, black hair and a snide confident look always plastered on his face. At one time he was a lady killer but now he was just closer to a plain killer.

"How much more?!" Brosky shouted suddenly; Samson leaned closer to the window shield to look at the street.

"We're coming up on Junction and Mortimer now…" Samson answered. "…Those cops still on our asses?" Samson asked. Both Dale and Brosky looked back.

"I don't see them…" Dale answered nervously. "…where do you think they went?"

"I wasn't asking you…!" Samson snapped at Dale. "…you just concentrate on counting the rest of that fuckin' money" Samson finished; Dale silently complied and went back to counting.

"They're not there…" Brosky answered. "…the police force has been pretty lazy lately, now that there a bunch of niggers and spics now."

"Hell yeah; ten more minutes and were home free." Samson exclaimed.

"How we gonna split this cash bro?" Brosky asked Samson sucked his teeth; he was starting to get tired of talking.

"I can't know until Dale finishes counting the money!" Dale answered.

"I'm counting as fast as I can, it's just hard to concentrate when-" Dale started.

"Shut the fuck up Dale and count." Brosky said aloofly.

Dale went back to counting silently and the car ride suddenly got quiet. In a way Samson felt bad for Dale; he really did contribute a lot and sometimes they were a little unfair to him. It took him about half a minute to conjure up the courage to look into the rear-view mirror and say:

"Listen Dale, thanks for the escape route we couldn't have done this without you." Dale started smiling uncontrollably.

"Thanks Samson…" Dale said. "…I really appreciate that." Dale finished.

"Fuckin' queer…" Brosky said to Dale, Dale ignored him.

"Yeah just try and hurry up and count that-" Samson's words were suddenly cut off by the backseat window on Dale's side crashing and the wind blowing furiously into the car.

"What the hell was that?!" Brosky yelled over the wind, Samson diverted his eyes off the road occasionally to look into the back seat.

"Something crashed into the window, it's in the car." Samson answered.

"What…?!" Brosky yelled.

"I saw it; it must be on the floor." Samson yelled.

The two young men both scrambled to look on the floor for what had crashed into the car. Samson anxiously looked into the rearview mirror waiting for one of them to return back into sight. Dale did first, holding a black, plastic object in a very familiar shape. Dale's eyes instantly began to tear.

"It's one of Batman's weapons!" Dale screamed, Brosky came up a second later and saw the Batman device and when he looked at it a light started to blink.

"Holy shi-"

A small explosion followed and then thick purple smoke engulfed the car. The car swerved violently left then right and then left again finally crashing into the wall next to Gotham tunnel. There was a long pause of nothing and then the driver side back door opened and a young very afraid man jumped out holding a large briefcase of money. Not much later the passenger side back door opened and a more rough looking man came out. Both men were covered in purple smoke residue. Both men were obvious.

Brosky walked quickly over to Dale and held the gun to his chest.

"Give me the money…!" Brosky demanded.

"…What?!" Dale asked horrified to see the gun turned on him. Brosky put the gun directly on his chest.

"…Give me the goddamn money or I swear I will blast you right here." Brosky said, without another word Dale began to hand over the money. Just as he started a dark shadow passed above them.

"…Shit!" Brosky cursed and smacked Dale with the gun so hard that he hit the ground with an audible thud took the money and ran into the nearby warehouse.

Samson came to not too long after and managed to get the door open just in time to see Brosky running into the warehouse. Samson tried to call after Brosky but his voice was grabbed by the purple smoke that had filled his lungs. His entire body was purple; he cursed and stepped out of the car only to see a crying Dale.

"What the hell happened?!" Samson yelled; Dale looked surprised to see Samson and for a moment didn't say anything.

"Brosky took off with the money…" Dale explained. "…He threatened to shoot me and then pistol whipped me." Dale seemed to gain control of himself quickly and stand up.

"Damn…!" Samson spit. "…don't cry, see if you can get the car back and working." Samson lightly ordered, Dale nodded and then Samson gave him a palm on the cheek real lightly. "…you're doing fine." And then Samson turned away and into the warehouse.

The Orange tint, of "caution" lights, in the night always created somewhat of an eerie and threatening feeling. Samson tried not to focus on his fears right now, he trusted Brosky and now this had happened. For a second Samson thought that maybe Brosky took off with the money because he knew he was most likely to get away, they'd meet up later and everything would be fine again. The rushing boxes around him brought him back to reality, that wasn't going to happen, he'd have to get he money back himself and then escape from this place with Dale, if he could. It seemed possible just as long as nothing else surprising or dangerous happened in the next ten minutes.

Dale tried to slow his breathing, didn't hear any police sirens which meant that he was in the clear for now. This wasn't the life he really wanted for himself, he didn't have the nerve for it. Either he was going to have a heart attack or be shot before he could see any type of riches. Dale stood up and laid his hand on the top of the car and looked at the ground, the moment he did that a shadow passed over him and casted noting but darkness around him for a sheer second but somehow it put more fear in him than anything else that happened that night. Again he laid himself on the ground praying he was out of sight of whatever the shadow was.

Brosky cursed to himself, the money was a lot heavier than he thought, with that in his left hand and the gun in his right he ran through the warehouse with methodical direction. He knew his way around, this used to be the normal escape route he took for himself in his earlier years. Gotham police never remembered that the building lead directly to one of the sewer entrances and from there you could go anywhere in Gotham.

He never intended to betray those guys, granted, he wasn't' fond of them but he also never intended to do them harm. Dale however; just wined too much he had to fix this, first he'd get away and then send some money to have the other two guys bailed out.

"Brosky…!" Samson yelled loudly the voice echoed for several seconds and Brosky cringed. Samson was going to get the both of them caught if he didn't shut his trap!

Left turn, he was almost there he could smell Gotham river already, he just had to go a little farther and it would be-

Samson's body smacked hard against Broksy and the impact knocked the wind out of him. Both young men hit the ground hard. A short struggled ensued and Samson tried to pull the gun out of Brosky's hand but Brosky was too quick and strong. Brosky automatically held the gun out to Samson's body.

"Now listen we both can't get outta here Samson…" Brosky started to reason. "…My record is too big, they catch me and that's it, I'm through." Brosky explained.

"Brosky, give me back the money" Samson said calmly.

"You don't get it, if they catch you I'll bail you both out, but if they catch me I won't have bail. One of us has to take the fall for the other to get out of this." Brosky pleaded, the anger in his eyes was starting to engulf the pupils, and the finger on the trigger was starting its usual itch. Samson flicked out a knife.

"You're not leaving with that money." Samson explained as well. Brosky's anger hit climax.

"Fine, you asked for it!" Brosky pulled the gun back, like he always did before he shoved it forward with the shot, but this was different something smacked hard against his hand. The gun went flying and Samson's eyes bulged with fear. Brosky turned to the direction of the thing that hit him and saw standing there in a dark shadow, tall and fearsome was Batman.

Brosky's first reaction was to scream, which he did, then it was to swing, which he also did, but Batman was too fast his punch was caught and in a flash he was sent careening into a large wooden crate. Samson ran as fast as he could, but even as he did so he knew he wasn't going to get away. The worst thing was that there were no footsteps behind him, not a sound no struggling, no fighting just silence. Samson made a right and then two lefts then right into Batman.

The Bat thing stood there silent and watched Samson as he crawled backwards, not trying to escape out rather just out of fear.

"Please don't kill me." Samson whined The Batman just stood there and then moves one step closer.

"I don't kill…" The Bat man said. "…I have something much worse planned for you." Samson couldn't take anymore and before he fainted he saw the Batman smile.


	3. Harvey

The wind blew anything but softly into the office and the papers began to rustle about and take flight into the stale air of books and legal procedures that made up the days of Harvey Dent. As the papers glided calmly to the floor Dent stood up to catch it, only missing it by a mere fraction of an inch and in his hasty effort caused a gust of wind that sent the paper floating wildly in a different direction. Dent watched it as it made a landing that was worthy of some kind of long winded poem and then paused briefly to listen to what the person on the phone, which he kept pressed between his ear and shoulder, was saying.

"I understand no one wants to go to jail for life…" Dent said as he kneeled down to pick the paper up. "…but my job as a prosecutor is to prosecute. Perhaps next time your client should reconsider being a fanatical murderer." Dent finished as he put the paper back on his desk and heavily put the paper weight down.

He was the best, this was one of the many calls he got a week from the defense lawyer of a client begging for some kind of plea bargain or settlement. Dent never did so, it wasn't his style he'd much rather win in court than lose outside of it. Dent had 'fame' to a degree, his name was loved by plaintiffs and loathed by criminals and defendants, whether they were innocent or guilty. Dent was the only person who could convince a jury that an innocent man was the devil. It wasn't so much abut who was guilty and who was not but rather if you could prove anyone to be either or and Dent knew he could, it was his talent, his skill, his forte.

Aside from that he was perhaps one of the most handsome men in Gotham, quite possibly even in the country. This was his third year being in the Gotham Times' "Best looking professional men" and his second year at number one. The first year he was offended by being beat out by Lex Luthor at number two and of course Bruce Wayne at number one. Wayne didn't bother him, he was a good looking man, no one could deny that plus he had one of the most beautiful women by his side: Selena Kyle and he was very rich but Lex Luthor? That bald headed egotistical warlord, how could he lose to him?

It didn't matter now, Dent was number one and he was pretty proud of it, he knew he was a good looking guy. He'd swear by it and even bet his career on it. Dent didn't consider himself a narcissist but he was confident in his looks, and why shouldn't he be?

"Well let's be serious he maimed twenty seven people and killed fourteen…" Dent said into the phone sitting back down. "…and using the name "Killer Croc" he should be very happy he's not being considered for Arkum Asylum." Dent leaned back in his chair and yawned silently in his own boredom. "…yeah, yeah, get back to me." Harvey Dent put the phone on the receiver.

His secretary came in and looked at him for a moment, she wasn't ugly but she also wasn't better looking than Dent and he knew it so he never teased her like he usually would. She put the mail down on his desk and he watched her behind as it left the office. Dent then turned to the mail and flipped through it until a small card with handwritten letters caught his eye. The heading caught his eye the most though. It read: "Dear Mr. Dent, My name is Batman and I would like a word or two with you."


	4. Brummer

Hotel rooms were never spacious for someone who lived in them all year round. They never seemed to change whether at night or in the daytime the always seemed to have the same limited shameful, homelessness feeling. When you didn't have a home though; that's the feeling you became familiar and happy with. The view out the window could have been any city. New York, Los Angeles, Metropolis, any of those city could have been the guess from the image but Gotham at night, that was something special. The true darkness and insanity of the rich city came out. Gorgeous only in it's immense mysteriousness, Gotham city was a good city to be targeted for imperialism. No one really ran it, the mayor was a coward behind desk with his girls and leather chair. The police commissioner was a fool, crime eluded him. Commissioner Ramsey's perception of crime was blinded by the fact that he was unable to fully comprehend the depth of the people who committed them.

The city was without leadership, begging to be taken command of like a submissive woman. There was one: Batman. Though he wasn't a leader he was the image Gotham looked to, not for guidance, but for protection. That's what mattered, people didn't look to their presidents and kings for guidance but for protection, so Gotham couldn't be take over without losing Batman. That was easier said than done though. You just couldn't kill Batman, it was too obvious, too easy. Even if Batman was killed now the people would rally behind his death, then it would probably be impossible for anyone to gain control of these people. Batman would have to be dismissed, and there were a few ways to do that but as of now it wasn't important. Other things had to be done first before-

"Sir…" A voice at the door called. Elliot turned around from the window and smiled at the man at the door. "…I hope I'm not intruding." The man said, he entered the door and closed it holding both hands in front of him.

"No, you aren't…" Elliot clasped his hands together and greeted Chad Brummer with a smile of the eyes. "…I trust you have good news." Elliot said.

"Yes…" Chad answered. "…everything is going well, all the men arrived from the Gotham harbor."

The sky outside was beginning to dim, soon nightfall would come, it would be the third and last day of the full moon and within the week a plan would be unfolded and there would be a new order in Gotham. It was only a matter of time and participants, the great thing was that the participants did not have to be willing to participate, they only needed to act in a standard human fashion, stay alive and one of them would have to die. The smoldering wind that rose from the old Gotham train yards entered the hotel room and drifted about like a curious visitor, the smell of labor, greed, laziness and human nature filled the room for one moment and in that moment Elliot relished it. Somewhere down in the city of dark dreams there were people who were gullible, somewhere in there there were people who were waiting for some change to come along so they could jump on the bandwagon. Human nature needs authority, something to follow even if they didn't believe in it, it just needed to be there. Elliot was going to deliver to the people the thing they wanted, within a week there would be something new, something more profound, something more powerful to follow and to obey. Of course there would have to be some changes, there would have to be a shift in power, someone would have to lose power for Elliot to assume the 'ultimate' power.

"Good…" Elliot said after a long moment of ruminating to himself, the smell of cinder was beginning to retreat from the room, back out the window, back to the ground below where it wouldn't be noticed by the people who have become some use to it. The plebian, the run of the mill, that would be the true downfall of Gotham City. You couldn't bring down Gotham with some elaborate machine or some madman's plan to topple the political powers, it was too complicated, a person could be tricked, but not people. People however; always, willingly gave up freedom when fear became prominent. History had proven it and Elliot would prove it again. "…They needn't be locked away somewhere, they will know when the time comes. They may relax" Elliot explained.

"I will relay that message to them sir, I'm sure they'll be happy to know this, they have had a very long trip." Chad explained, his body remained motionless, he was a statue, a barely living postal card that went from place to place relaying messages without as much as a hint of real emotion. Elliot despised his personality but trusted him, they had worked together for a long time now and there was a lot that had been done and very little left to complete what they had started together. Chad would be there in the end and then there would be nothing more to plan for or seriously think about thereafter. Elliot had a whole team of men behind him but there was one man he wasn't sure about.

"What about him…?" Elliot asked with a hint of suspicion in his voice. The lack of trust was evident, every great plan had one part to it that was not perfect. The Achilles heel of geniuses was always the same thing: Outside parties. "…Is he still cooperating?"

"Yes…" Chad answered simply, the pause lifted into the air like a balloon freshly filled with helium, it hung there and drifted for a moment or two and then Chad took a breath and started again. "…he made contact this morning, he said he had an engagement in Metropolis, but would be here in time to fulfill his contract. He also wanted me to relay that he's still expecting fifteen thousand up front." Chad stretched out the last two words but even with the slight sign of emotion Chad remained still and formal.

"He needn't worry about his money…" Elliot quickly answered, as if he was answering the man himself. "…We will just have to wonder if his expertise is as…" there was a pause from Elliot as he searched for a word. "…high class as he brags." Elliot finished. Chad nodded, even in his lifeless eyes Elliot could see Chad was beginning to bore. The truth was that Elliot was beginning to bore as well, time was moving so slowly. He was so close to the moment of truth and yet it wasn't here yet. It wasn't like him to get anxious, but he was on the verge of greatness, of glory. Fate was beginning to show his happy face towards him. Fate was a man, it was clear, only a man could embrace such an ingenious plan and now was going to be the time where he and fate were going to shake hands and, together, give Gotham something it has been missing for years. Something that it was screaming to have once more, and Elliot could hardly wait to give it to them in the most ruthless and cunning way he could.

"You may go Chad, enjoy your stay in Gotham, the next week will be tumultuous." Elliot commanded, Chad bowed slightly and left the room. Elliot smiled for a long moment to himself. Once more Gotham would have the thing it lacked the most: merciless, ruthless and relentless order.


	5. Gordon

On the aqua blue folder was a yellow sticky stamp; on that stamp was red ink that had been written very roughly, so roughly you could see the parts of the sticky stamp that was almost ripped clean through. The red ink spelled out, in big capital letters "These reports done by tomorrow or else!" this was on top of the thousands of papers that had long since consumed his desk. The phone poked out on the top right hand corner of the desk, all you could see was the top hump of the eggshell white phone. Eggshell white is what Barbra insisted it was when she visited his office once a couple of months ago. So thusly it had to have actually been Eggshell white. Detective Gordon knew nothing about the different shades of colors, including green, dark green and light green, they were all the same colors, so when it came to filling out this "detailed suspect description" Gordon was beginning to become frustrated.

"Killer Croc: Green, Dark Green or Light Green. Please check here" Gordon read out loud to himself. He sat staring at the question dumfounded by what to put. He looked at the Polaroid picture taken of Killer Croc after Batman had left him unconscious at the Gotham courthouse. Gordon grimaced at the appearance of the 'thing'; he had trouble believing it was human. He was deformed, no, the report described him as being "super formed" uncanny muscles, filed teeth and harden skin, much like a crocodile. Gordon shivered, these cases were becoming stranger and stranger, but Batman had stopped each one. It was making Gordon's job quite easier not to mention that every time Batman brought one of these outlandish thugs in Gordon got a promotion. The work was still tedious, he had to file reports on all of these criminals to give to the D.A. before tomorrow. It was Gordon's fault the Edward Nigma had not gotten to trial yet he hadn't sent in his official report, which he would tomorrow. There were just so many criminals running about and being captured by Batman that Gordon had hardly any chance to review them all. They were almost all fanatical, almost all using some title for a name like "Joker" or "Poison Ivy, and all being first time criminals but being so successful that they were being put in the category as career criminals. Some had even been admitted to Arkum Asylum like "Scarface" It was all so much to rap your head around, it could drive a sane man to the edge. Worse of all he was the only detective available to deal with these type of things because of the lower level crimes that were engulfing Gotham's sublevels. So he was the sucker to get stuck with the craziness, while everyone else got to deal with the petty crimes, filling in times and locations. As tedious as it was there was no one better for the position for the simple fact that Batman only trusted Gordon, the rest of the Gotham police department was heavily influenced by politics and money. While things were getting better there were still a few influential people who were not necessarily on the right or wrong side of the law, they shifted from time to time and in that sense they were a bigger problem than some of the criminals out there. That's the world Gordon was living in though, so, as much as he bitched and moaned about it he wasn't going to make a difference by sitting in his office and ruminating about all the people's fault it was, he would just have to focus his attention on one criminal at a time and when the time came for the corrupted political powers that be to fall under the weight of justice then Gordon would be there to watch them fall.

One of those falling political powers would be Mayor Hamilton Hill, Gordon knew, as did most people, that Mayor Hill was a corrupt, egotistical and self righteous egomaniac, but he was the Mayor and until the criminals, who were in the forefront, were taken down; undercover criminals, like the mayor, there was nothing Gordon could actually do about it. It was a troubled world and Gotham was defiantly seeing the worst of it but until Gordon could-

The wind blew and several papers on his desk were blown off, quickly he grabbed some more from falling and placed them under a stapler, which had ran out of staples over a week ago, and then sat back. The windows were closed and lock so the wind coming through it could only mean one thing.

"It's been a little while since you dropped by last" Gordon said as he turned around to face Batman, who had unlocked his window and stepped inside without so much as a peep of noise. Batman stood there like a demon from hell, but the odd thing was that his posture was that of a man, standing against the wall reclining slightly arms out of sight inside his cape. He looked like the most inhuman human you could imagine.

"I've been very busy…" He gestured towards the files on the desk. "…the criminals are getting more fanatical as the day's go by." Batman said his caped echoed in the wind and he moved only slightly.

"I've noticed that as well…" Gordon reached into his drawer and pulled out a handful of newspapers. "…so have the press." He tossed the newspaper in the general direction of Batman who still remained motionless, but Gordon knew his eyes were watching the papers reading the various headlines and dates.

"I suppose their blaming me for that as well." Batman added, he moved one inch, which Gordon noticed, uncomfortably.

"It could be worse they could be ordering your arrest." Gordon paused; Batman walked out the window and disappeared for a moment. Gordon knew to follow. Within five minutes the two men were standing on the roof. The Bat Signal, as they called it, had been used extensively since it's formation after the Ra's al Ghul disaster, aside from being the calling symbol for Batman it had also become the common meeting place for Batman and Gordon.

Initially Gordon didn't trust Batman; he didn't take to well to his vigilante antics, but Gotham was in need of change and when Batman came along he made it apparent that he was going to help Gotham regardless of whether or not GCPD approved or not. Gordon had to appreciate the change that came with Batman, it was true that there were more maniacal and dangerous criminals because of him, but there was this calm in Gotham now, a fear of the law. Batman had made crimes illegal again, opposed to just being frowned upon and for that Gordon had to respect that. Not to mention that their meetings had revealed that he and Batman shared a lot of the same passions, they wanted to make Gotham a city of people instead of its current title "The city of dark crimes", there was also the sometimes strange human like action he made, yet still, Gordon didn't trust him completely.

"Are they ordering my arrest?" Batman asked not facing Gordon, out of habit Gordon nodded at the man not facing him.

"They're considering it…" Gordon said; it was now in this tense moment, that he had to reveal to the man that trusted him that his institution was about to turn on him, that Gordon pulled out his cigarette and lit it. "…there is pressure to bring you in for what you did to Edward E. Nigma" Gordon explained.

Batman had taken down a plot from Edward E. Nigma to kill his workers using the use of bright lights and sleep depravation, the scientist were kidnapped and left to fend for themselves and kill one another. The entire plan was planned out in a notebook and a clue was left for the detectives in the form of a riddle. Batman crashed in on his plans during the final process in which the 'participants' were offered food, sleep and darkness for the head of one of their colleagues, and dealt the defenseless Edward E. Nigma a concussion, fourteen broken bones and, collectively, forty five stitches. Some called it a bit too far to go against a defensive and non lethal man, others saw it as too easy.

"He was a criminal…" Batman simply stated. "…and where is this 'pressure' coming from?" Batman asked; Gordon shook his head and puffed out some smoke.

"It's hard to say there are a lot of corrupt people who wants you out before you come after them." Gordon said he took another drag of his cigarette and walked over to the edge of the building with his back to Batman.

"It's time to start cutting them down at the base." Batman explained; Gordon sighed, he knew this day would come, the day when he would be ask to break the law for Batman, for the better of Gotham. There were so many high level criminals and politicians out there, the only way to bring them down was to work around the law and that wasn't Gordon's forte. One wrong move and he could, further, ruin the GCPD's reputation.

"Who's first?" Gordon asked, he turned around half expecting to see Batman there and half expecting him to have already left silently like he always did.

"District Attorney Whitman." Batman said simply, his body moved in a stiff, almost pained way, and from his cape came a stack of glossy pictures. The pictures landed in front of Gordon and he placed the cigarette into his mouth and leaned over to pick them up.

"Whitman…?" Gordon asked; there were few times where Gordon was completely stumped. "…Why him?" Gordon looked at the pictures one by one, the first three were just of Whitman exiting his car and then the next several pictures were of him meeting a young woman and then…

"Someone is paying him to not prosecute The Creep to the fullest extent of the law and they're paying him with money and girls…" Batman explained. Gordon again turned from Batman in disbelief at the pictures he held his right hand over his mouth and the cigarette burned lazily in his left close to the pictures, which also were held in his left hand. This disturbed him, he knew Whitman and never thought of him as being a criminal as well, the D.A. was a powerful man and if he fell in line with these thugs it could next to impossible to bring them down. Maybe it was a misconception, sure the woman wasn't his wife but that wasn't illegal.

"How do you know this woman is a prostitute?" Gordon asked still not facing Batman, the denial shamed him a bit.

"I don't…" Batman said simply; there was a pause and Gordon could almost feel Batman watching his back. "…I do know she's fifteen." Batman finished; Gordon winced as if someone had stabbed him in the side. A feeling of disgust began to bubble in his stomach, Gordon trusted in his instincts and the fact that he had not suspected Whitman made him feel uneasy about everyone in Gotham.

"You want me to present these to someone?" Gordon asked looking across to the building that seemed sloppily slapped between his office building and Gotham Museum of Natural History.

"No…" Batman paused. "…I want you to discreetly let him know that you know about his little habit and then apply pressure when needed." Batman explained.

"Blackmail?" Gordon asked a bit shocked; it wasn't his intention to do anything at such a low level, there had to be a better solution.

"Essentially, a time will come when Killer Croc is ready to go to trial; we can't afford to have Whitman tying that up with senseless politics." Batman answered; Gordon nodded, he knew it was true.

"Someone's paying him off for the well being of Killer Croc?" Gordon asked; He looked back expecting Batman to be gone but he was still there sitting, in fact, on metal exhaust pipe.

"Someone very close to you wants Killer Croc to get off with the insanity plea…" Batman began, Gordon interrupted.

"Isn't that the proper plea…?" Gordon asked. "…Wouldn't you agree Killer Croc is insane?" Gordon asked.

"No…" Batman quickly answered. "…What he did was insane but he was completely aware of what he was doing, he was in a sane state of mind and needs to be tried as so." Batman stood up and Gordon looked away almost embarrassed to have been staring at Batman sitting down.

"I suppose you're right…" Gordon answered, he frowned. "…Who's helping Croc?" He suddenly had the urge to know; there was a pause but somehow Gordon knew Batman was still there.

"Are you sure you want to know…?" Batman asked; there was genuine concern in his voice, which further proved that the answer would be a tough one to hear.

"Yes, I need to know." Gordon answered sternly.

"Commissioner Charleston." Batman said a moment later; he said it which such finality that he seemed to almost say it with reluctance. The same pain that hit him when he heard about Whitman did not return when he heard this.

"I thought as much…" Gordon answered. "…he's always been a little shady." Gordon finished.

"Killer Croc has shared some of his stolen funds with Charleston, hence the conflicting reports with the banks amount of what was stolen and what was ultimately found." Batman explained; Gordon nodded.

"That explains his new Jaguar." Gordon sighed; He bit his lip and rubbed his eyes.

"It's going to get worse after this but then it'll get better." The optimism in Batman's voice almost frightened Gordon.

"I've heard that one before…" Gordon said; he thought for a moment he still hadn't got the answer to his question. "…By the by, how would you describe killer Croc's color?" Gordon turned to face Batman for the answer, but when he did Batman was gone. He looked over the roof to see if he could see Batman retreating but he didn't. Five minutes he stood there just thinking about everything that had happened, He hadn't realized he dropped his cigarette so he took out another one and lit it, He took a drag and then let it out in one long, luxurious sigh. Gordon went back to his desk and looked at the Killer Croc report and checked dark green shortly after spitting:

"Fuck it."


	6. Unsafe Withdrawl

Gotham National Bank was the largest bank in the tri-state area; it had been established during the depression to maintain funds of the largest companies in Gotham so that it didn't go bankrupt. During the 1960's the bank was taken over from the federal government and given to the mayor of Gotham as a reward for great service in the tri-state area. When the 70's came along and the crime rate soared into new records the bank became powerless and became nothing but a common bank that the common people couldn't even afford to go to. This downward trend lasted another thirty plus years until Bruce Wayne took over Wayne enterprises and took over the bank entirely; he used his money to equal out the money loss over the last thirty years and gave the bank back to the people. It was by far one of Bruce's favorite accomplishments; he often came to visit the bank to see how it was functioning. It was a bank that was built on trust and goodwill, the common people were able to take, the little, they had and put it into the bank and invest in Wayne enterprises and get a piece of stock and in time double and even triple their savings. Bruce, in the beginning, got a lot of backlash from the idea, everyone seemed to think that this plan along with the rapid and spared no expense attitude rebuilding of the lower level slums of Gotham, was going to lead Wayne enterprises to bankruptcy; but, over time the plan had worked out pretty well and some other banks had taken to the same idea. Today was one of those days that Bruce decided to visit the bank unannounced; while some other corporations would see an unannounced visit as a threatening gesture; but, this was different the people loved to see Bruce Wayne show up and shake their hands or kiss their babies. It was always in the bank did someone ask him why he hadn't run for mayor or governor or some other political position in the last election or the one coming up. Bruce always politely suggested that the politicians now were doing the best of their ability and that he could only do as good as they could and that juggling Wayne enterprises on top of that would be too much. "The platform I'm working on now is the best I can do to help the people." He always would answer with a friendly smile. That would be enough; for the time being the people would be extremely satisfied with the answer. Afterward he would walk upstairs and quietly talk to bank master about politics and the latest deranged lunatic that Batman had taken down.

This was the kind of life that Bruce enjoyed; talking about Batman didn't bother him, even when, some of the critics decided to unleash their tirades about him. When Bruce entered the bank heads turned; everyone was aware of his arrival within the few seconds it took from him to leave the doorway and reach the Wayne Enterprises emblem on the well polished floor. Bruce waved at some of the people who made quick flurried motions to get his attention. To his surprise the manager of the bank was on the ground floor and was the first to approach Bruce.

"Ah Mr. Wayne it's a pleasure to see you again." The manager said as he shook Bruce's hand.

"Oh, Engels, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Bruce…?" Bruce asked; the manager, Engels, smiled and nodded his head to the side and patted Bruce on the back.

"I know; but, once you got me this job I considered you a boss." Engels admitted, Bruce nodded himself and began walking with Engels to the stairs that lead up to the bank master's office.

"I'm no ones boss, just a friend in a higher position." Bruce explained, Engels laughed hollowly.

"Well then in that case I should ask you for a raise." Engels humored with a soft jab to the ribs (but to Bruce this was enough to cause him enough pain, he grimaced but passed it off as a sly smile) and at the base of the stairs Engels stopped and gestured Bruce on.

"You're not going with me?" Bruce asked; Engels shook his head and the light humor melted from his face like butter to a hot pan.

"Some big shot is transfer a boatload of funds and is planning on sponsoring some of the city government departments. We have to make sure that the lethargic police department gets it money." Engels explained; the situation intrigued Bruce because it seemed out of the ordinary.

"Well where would be _without_ the G.C.P.D.?" Bruce asked; Engels gave a shrug of his shoulders.

"We probably would be better off, Batman does everything anyway." Engels smiled and gave a brief shake of Bruce hands and then went back to work.

Bruce continued up the stairs and took a break at the first break between stairs and considered going back downstairs to ask more about this money transfer; but, something in him convinced him not to. At the top of the steps there was armored door with a gold plate that read: "Master of Bank: Jennifer Jeanette" Bruce knocked on the door and it opened with the force of his hand. Bruce walked into the dark room, illuminated merely by the security cameras that displayed almost every inch of the bank.

"It's good to see you Bruce…" Jennifer said; Bruce turned to her direction and smiled. Jennifer Jeanette wasn't a very beautiful girl, plain at best; but she was good at being a hermit and keeping secrets and banking interest private. "…stopping by to see how your bank is coming along?" Jennifer asked. Bruce shook his head and put his hands in his jacket pocket.

"No; believe it or not today I have a break between my obligations and I decided to spend it with you." Bruce explained with an excess amount of charm. The excess was wasted however Jennifer didn't seem to notice that he was being cute to lighten the mood.

"An unwise decision from a rather wise man…" Jennifer sighed. "…I suppose you heard about this astronomical transfer." Jennifer added.

"Only from Engels downstairs…" Bruce sat down next to her. "…Who's the owner?" Bruce asked. Jennifer shrugged.

"I'm not sure…" She admitted. "…our old friend, the mayor, has decided to keep the identity secret for 'security reasons'" Jennifer answered.

"That's highly suspicious" Bruce muttered; Jennifer nodded.

"It gets worse…" she started again. "…all the money is being transferred from here into various city government agencies, like the police department, and the city senate." Jennifer explained; Bruce made a frown.

"Why did you approve it?" He asked; Jennifer nodded.

"They found some loophole about this being the only bank large enough to accept the funds therefore we're obligated to support the city government by accepting these funds, despite the fact that we're privately owned by your company." Jennifer explained.

"Why wasn't I notified?" Bruce asked.

"That's a question you'll have to ask the mayor's office…" Jennifer started. "…They took over the whole-"Before Jennifer could finish she was cut off by a loud explosion. At first it was startling; but, when the explosions were followed by similar explosions the sound became frightening. Jennifer looked into the television screens and she couldn't make out anything the suddenly all the power shut off. Bruce didn't move he calmly waited.

"The auxiliary power should cut on any minute." Jennifer reassured. No quicker than the completion of her sentence did the orange tint of the auxiliary power turn on. In the television between Bruce and Jennifer, armed men could be seen rushing up the steps to the office. In a panic Jennifer stood up to close the door; but, before Bruce could voice his objection the door was flung open and Jennifer was shot point blank in the chest.

Quickly thinking Bruce got up and slammed the door on the armed man's arm cause the hand to squeeze and the gun to fire harmlessly into the corner. The arm retreated quickly and Bruce shut the door and the locks quickly air compressed and shut. Bruce threw his body over to Jennifer and checked her pulse; but, she was already dead. Bruce cursed to himself and reflexively he reached for his belt. When there was no gadget to grab he cursed again and quickly stood up. At that time the door exploded loudly and shot in Bruce's direction, the sheer power of the explosion knocked his body into the surveillance televisions. Two of the men rushed into the room but Bruce was too quick, a sweeping kick landed across both of their faces. They hit the ground like bricks and Bruce was on his two feet; but, before he could run to the exit one of the men grabbed his leg and threw him down. As Bruce fell his positioned his legs like scissors to the man's neck and when he fell his legs clamped on either side of the man's neck causing a loud crack. Bruce was up quickly only to be confronted by another man at the doors. A swift punch was dodged and countered by Bruce, but when the man threw his knee out it connected squarely to his gut. The shock and strength of the hit was so powerful that it shot up his gut, into his chest, through his arms and into his head. For a moment Bruce's eyes went black and he stumbled backwards. As Bruce caught his balance the man came towards him with a flying kick, Bruce was quick to catch the leg and give a hard elbow to the kneecap causing it to bend backwards and break instantly, the man griped in pain and Bruce flung his body to the side. Again Bruce tried to exit but a larger man walked in slowly.

"Mr. Wayne…?" The man asked; Bruce stood in a defensive fighting stance. The man nodded and took out a metal bar. The swing was dodged by a quick thinking duck and the second swing connected with Bruce's strong arm technique. This kept the metal bar from landing across his face. The large man pushed the bar trying to break Bruce's defense but Bruce pushed back equally strong. Then the man smiled. "…a valiant effort." The man's thumb moved ever so slightly and an electrical pulse ripped through Bruce's body, for a moment Bruce stayed upright; but, the effort didn't last long. The pulse caused his arm to jerk and the bar reached his chest. The pulse caused him to hit the ground and within moments of hitting the floor Bruce lied unconscious.

The man looked over the body for a moment before calling more of the armed men inside.

"Take his body and give him a shock whenever he seems to come to." The man instructed. Silently the armed men obeyed his orders and lifted Bruce of the ground. The man then took out a Cellular phone and dialed a number. "Yes Ms. Kyle…" The man said. "..I think I have an offer you might be very interested in."

End Part I


	7. Selena

At first Selena Kyle didn't think she'd be able to handle a couple of days without knowing if Bruce was safe or not; but, when that passed she had to up the number of days to a whole week. After the week went by she began to lose hope that Bruce was still alive; but, there was something deep in her heart that knew he was still alive. A week in a half would pass and other issues would start to interfere with her worrying about Bruce; however, it was at two weeks that everything became different.

The News said: "It's now been two weeks since the kidnapping of Gotham millionaire Bruce Wayne. Authorities have been quoted on saying that they were both close and clueless to the whereabouts of the Wayne. Earlier Commissioner Charleston gave a public announcement explaining the current situation" The commissioner tape played: "There is no reason to believe that Bruce Wayne has been harmed in any way, the kidnappers have not made a ransom or any form of contact with the G.C.P.D. and until they do we have to assume that Wayne is being held for some kind of shock value." The Newscaster returned: "As we heard the commissioner say in his speech there hasn't been any contact with authorities at all about a trade-off for Wayne's safe return, in fact, the only contact from the kidnappers have been to Wayne's speculated girlfriend Selena Kyle…" A rather flattering and candid picture of Selena appeared in a little box to the right of the female Newscasters head. "…Kyle was contacted immediately after Wayne's kidnapped but the details of what was said to her are still unknown." The female Newscaster stopped and the male Newscaster's face appeared; however, the picture of Selena didn't disappear. The male started: "That leaves the question to exactly what part Selena Kyle has in this whole ordeal. Many people believe that this may be the Lex Luthor factor. How can anyone forget two years ago when Luthor was kidnapped and threatened to be killed for the ransom of six hundred million dollars, later it was revealed that his wife 'The Contessa' Erica Alexandra Del Portenza, had hired the kidnappers and planned to split the ransom money and then kill Luthor to inherit his life insurance money, could Selena Kyle actually be the mastermind of this whole ordeal? We have relationship expert Linda Horowitz here to help answer this question. Hello Linda how are you?" The male Newscaster stopped and the other woman began to talk. "I'm fine thank you; let me first start off by saying that these millionaires are smart when it comes to making money; but, are just the stupidest people when it comes to picking relationships. Why would you pick this mediocre nobody to possibly share your millions with? She has no kind of culturing, class or anything of the like it is just beyond me as to why Wayne would waste his time on this riff raff of a woman-" Selena grew tired of hearing this woman speak and turned the channel and to no surprise the same story was being talked about. This channel was taking a different angle, The Newscaster here continued: "…we have an exclusive interview with one of the bank workers a Mr. Engels Olivares. Thanks for being with us Mr. Olivares…" The Newscaster said, the screen went to a smaller framed man with olive colored skin and a rather defined face, he seemed nervous, probably because he was involved in the bank kidnapping. The man started to speak: "Thanks for having me, there's not much I can say I was there and it was horrible and I-" Again Selena turned the channel to cable, they weren't covering the story and that would give her some peace of mind for the time being. As mentioned before there were other things she had to worry about now. The G.C.P.D. was really investigating her for the kidnapping and they were being forceful about it, with her other 'activities' she had to be careful not to make herself seem anymore suspicious than she already seemed, and on top of that she was being followed. Outside her apartment building a car had been parked for the last two days and there were four men watching her through the window for the last forty eight hours. Selena had been careful not to let whoever it was know that she was aware of them. For the first day she wasn't bothered; but, now it seemed a bit odd and unnerving. They had been watching non-stop for the last two days and now Selena was afraid that they may attacker in her home. It wasn't so much of the attack that bothered her but rather the mess it would make in her house and then some of the stuff they could find in the apartment. Selena didn't need anymore problems than she already had, Bruce had always extended Wayne Manor to her and she never used the option before; but, tonight would be the exception. Selena looked out the window quickly and to no surprise the black car was still across the street and the men was still looking towards her. Selena pretended to toss something out the window and then watch it to make sure that it didn't hit anyone on the street, then she went back into her living room. Despite the obviousness Selena hid all her valuable items in her living room closet, she followed the scarlet letter ideal that things hidden in plain sight were more often the least likely to be seen. There was one thing; however, that she didn't keep in plain sight. After reaching for her duffle bag Selena shoved her cheap dresses to either side of the closet. In the back of the closet dead in the center was a panel that had been carved out before she had moved in. When she first found it Selena came across some old photos and a videotape of the last couple in some compromising positions. At first the tape was entertaining; but, it wasn't long until she grew tired of the tape and put it in the mailbox with no return address or sent address; wherever it ended up didn't matter to her. Then after Selena began engaging in her other activities she found the spot pretty useful when trying to hide her spoils. The panel was nearly invisible when looked at from straight across; however, if you moved to either the left or the right you could see the space where the panel met the wall. Selena moved the panel and the same feeling that rushed inside her that always did when she opened the panel. There was something about looking at the suit that scared her. It was almost like looking at someone else, someone comatose; but, when they woke up this person would be a whole world of trouble. Quickly and without thought Selena grabbed the suit and stuff it into the bag, to hide it she took some of the old dresses as well and packed them on top. In what could be interpreted as angrily; Selena closed the closet door and picked her keys from the top of the T.V. , went into her room and quickly through them out the window. Upon reentering the living room Selena stole a glance outside the window from halfway across the room. She could still see the car and that was fine. Selena movements were getting faster she turned on the fan and turned it to the window so that the curtain blew and created the effect that there was movement in the house. After brushing her hair from in front her eyes Selena turned off the T.V. she went to leave; but, as she did the T.V. floated back into her mind; so she turned it back on. That way it would look like someone was home, even though when she walked out the front door the men would see her; but, what did that matter she was going to be as careful as she could. Selena looked around the apartment again very quickly making sure she wasn't leaving anything behind and, when she was sure that she hadn't she quickly walked out. When Selena reached outside the crisp night air strangled her senses for a moment. In the air she could smell the smoke stacks around the outskirts of Gotham and the oddly clean smell of the rain that had not begun to come down yet. The difference between them was startling and caused her nose to wrinkle up. Selena didn't waste time; however, she made a quick left turn, the quickest way to Wayne Manor was through the back alleys of Gotham. At first thought the back alleys scared Selena, the crazies, the rapist, the murderers, for a lone woman it would be near suicide or at least a deliberate act of masochism; but, Selena knew that she wasn't like the other women and thusly she had less to worry about. If the back alleys were the safest way then the back alleys were the way to go. For some reason, a reason that was beyond her, Selena looked back at the car and made direct eye contact with one of the men inside the car. In a hurried and very obvious manner she turned her head and went into the alley.

The man who had the eye contact with Selena was sitting in the back seat of the car on the driver side.

"She knows we're here…" the man said; the other men turned to face him. "…she looked right at me and turned away." He explained.

"Are you sure?" The front seat passenger side man asked.

"Yes Donald I am sure…" The man defensively started. "…She looked right at me and then turned into the ally!"

"Fine, fine if Jack says she saw us then I believe him…" The driver said. "…I'm sick of sitting here watching her do nothing all day anyhow, Rich make sure the stun gun is ready." The driver finished. In the back seat passenger seat Richard took out the stun gun and checked the charge and it was at one hundred percent.

"It's ready…" Richard said; the four men got out of the car and looked as if they were trying to look incognito and walked towards the alley.

The alley was very dark, which was no surprise; but, Gotham had tried to change the darkness years ago. They installed streetlamps in every alleyway that automatically turned on at dusk. The criminals; however, weren't idiots. It didn't take them long to destroy most of the lamps which lead to the installation of security cameras; (which came to the dismay of many civil rights group who claimed that random people walking down the street were having their privacy invaded by the installation) but, that didn't last very long either because the criminals just destroyed those and then destroyed the lamps as well as the fact that the state government was tired of spending money to fix these cameras and pay for security tapes every week. As a result of this negligence the alleyways remained dangerous and there was nothing to do about it. These were men though, the difference was immense. Gotham's crime rate could be split up very easily, seventy percent of crimes were committed against women, and the other thirty were split up in a specific way. Crimes committed against men in robberies dealing with businesses and government establishments were fifteen percent, accidental crimes, such as drunk driving accidents and manslaughter took another ten percent and the remaining five percent were committed solely against men with no other factors in immediate thought. Men were the vast minority in terms of being victims; but, were the majority of criminals; though, women were starting to come up in the statistics.

With all of that in mind the men walked into the alley without so much as a reasonable fear in mind. The only constant thing going on in all of their minds was the location of Selena Kyle. She had walked into this alley and now she seemingly had disappeared into the darkness.

"Where the _hell_ did she go?" Richard asked; doing a turn to take a whole look at the alley. Jack didn't move from his position, chances were the woman was hiding behind a trash can; trash dumpster, or something evading them. The best thing to do was to simply let her feel as if she had gotten away and then spring on her suddenly to avoid any unnecessary problems.

The driver who's name was Henry was very frustrated had been watching this woman for two days and now there was the potential problem of having lost her. Henry scratched his left shoulder with his right hand and then rubbed his left arm with the same hand, a nervous tick he preformed whenever he 'sensed' danger or something of the like. Though men were not the majority of victims in crimes, the alleyways weren't the best place to be, they were scary for grown men. People were raped, robbed and murdered in these alleys. The other large problem about the alleyways was that they lead to the outskirts of the city. The city was well developed; but, the immediate outside of the city was underdeveloped, it would be easy to get oneself lost, or to lose a body in the outskirts of Gotham. Despite all that; however, the men were in the alleys because they were going to be well paid to bring this woman in.

"She's in this alley somewhere…" Henry said; agitated at the situation. "…find her and don't hurt her."

The alleyway was actually impossible to get out of unless one had some kind ladder. There was a large wooden fixture blocking the end of the alleyway to the beginning of east Gotham way; this had probably had been put her because of East Gotham Way's dangerous reputation. It followed the old underground system that had been unearthed in a failed attempt to start an over ground transportation system that lead from Gotham to New York City. Because it was never finished the entire span of East Gotham Way was subsequently in shambles and that made it a breeding ground for degenerates and scum. Even if Kyle had found someway over the wooden barricade, she wouldn't be scared enough of the four of them to run into East Gotham Way in the middle of the night; that was suicide.

Ten minutes of searching yielded no results, the four men searched up and down the alley every last inch and they could not find Selena Kyle.

"What if she went into East Gotham Way…?" Donald asked nervously; he looked around at the other three men nervously when they didn't answer "…I'm not going there, especially not at this time of night." Donald answered. Henry shook his head sternly and turned to Donald.

"I sure as hell don't want to go into that shit hole either; but, if we have to do so to find that bitch we're going to have to…" Henry rubbed his left arm again. "…We have too much riding on this." Henry rationalized.

"If we're going in there…" Jack gestured to the barricade. "...I want to have my gun." Jack's sentiment seemed to resonate with the other two men. They all seemed to turn to Henry looking for an answer.

"I've got mine…" Henry took out his gun and flashed it to the men. "…we'll be fine." Henry put his gun back in the holster hidden in his jacket.

"You've lost your mind if you think I'm going into that hell hole with only one gun between the four-" Before Donald could finish something smacked him very hard against the back of his head, his body shot forward two feet and he landed with a loud smack on his face.

"_Shhheeeeeit…_!" Richard exclaimed in a flash the stun gun was out; Richard jumped to Donald's body and turned it over. "…oh shit, he's hurt pretty bad" Richard exclaimed. Donald was unconscious and it was clear that his nose was broken and probably couldn't be repaired. The bone had split, very sloppily, in half and was protruding out of the skin. The protruding part of the face where the nose would be identified was caved in and is entire face was bloodied. Henry didn't move from his spot; trying to see everything around him making sure he was not to be attacked in the same manner.

"What the hell was that?" Jack exclaimed; looking at Donald's, now, blood drenched head. Richard tried to clear the blood with his sleeve; but, was making little to no progress.

"We need to get him out of here, he's going to need a-" As Richard spoke a loud snap ripped through the alleyway and the hand holding the stun gun snapped back towards the barricade. In a sudden jerk all of Richard's body was thrown backwards into the barricade with such a force that his head smashed a hole into the wood and his body laid limp. This time their assailant was visible standing on top of the wooden fixture looking down at them from the light of the moon. Henry couldn't stop himself, the fear from seeing the figure. The black suit against the dark night it was clear who it was. A quick snap of his wrist and the gun was pointed; but, it wasn't fast enough something slammed against his wrist and caused the gun to go flying. The pain against his wrist stung so much that he fell to the ground and began bleeding. For a couple of seconds the pain was so powerful that his brain could only center on how it could possibly hurt so much. When he came back to his senses he knew to stand up, once on his feet he looked over to where Jack was standing, but at this point he was laid out on the ground. Only a couple of seconds passed between his pain and getting up; but, in that small amount of time he had been ambushed and now was the only person standing. For a moment he stood there; but, then he remembered the gun, quickly he turned to go for it and when he went to dive for it, the deepest pain smashed his chest. Henry wasn't sure if it was the pain in his chest that knocked the wind out of him or the sudden smack into the ground with his back that did it; but, he couldn't breathe for a moment or two.

As Henry tried to get up something with weight landed on top of his chest. He coughed loudly and cringed. The boot pressed into his chest hard and his entire weight wasn't enough to lift his body up and, on top of that his wrist was bleeding uncontrollably. Standing over him was the black suit and piercing eyes; but, upon further review Henry realized it wasn't the Batman standing on top of him, it was something else, something female.

"Well, my, my, my, what do we have here…"the shadowy figure mused as it leaned closer to Henry's face. The smell of the demonic looking attacker's breath was floral, kind. The sheer oxymoronic factors playing out in front of his face and in his nose were enough to create a dizzying nausea. "…four big men stalking one harmless woman and now they have to deal with the big bad wolf." The assailant said as, presumably, she leaned close his face and allowed her lips to graze his cheeks softly.

For a moment Henry was shocked and confused as to what was happening; but, upon further thought he was sure he knew who this was. Among the large criminals that had come as the result of Batman's appearance another had come along that was working as a vigilante. She called herself "Catwoman" an obvious humorous play on the Batman's name and, as well as being a cat burglar the eccentric personality treated herself as a protector for women randomly attacked in the street. It made sense for her to be here, a woman going into East Gotham Way needed all the help she could get.

"I can't breathe…" Henry managed to spit out; through his fear and pain.

"Trust me if I didn't want you to breathe you wouldn't be breathe…" Catwoman smiled at Henry and touched Henry cheeks with her claws and softly caressed his skin. "…now; while you're able to breathe, tell me why you were following that woman." Catwoman gestured with her head toward the wooden barricade, Henry took note of that, and he could get her if he could find a shortcut in East Gotham Way.

"We weren't going to hurt her…" Henry struggled to explain.

"No…?" Catwoman asked with a hint of mock shock in her voice. "…then what were you going to do; a painless rape, a courteous robbery?" Catwoman licked her lips and looked deep into his eyes.

"No, none of that-" Henry started. Catwoman moved closer to Henry's face practically touching his lips with hers.

"Then what?" Catwoman asked more forcibly.

"I can't tell you that…" Henry moaned. "…get off." Henry demanded; he lifted his head up a little to seem more serious. Catwoman didn't allow him to though and knocked his head back on the pavement roughly with her hand.

"Sure you can…" Catwoman cooed; she took her claw and pressed hard on his temple drawing blood and then dragged the claw down the side of his face to the middle of his cheek leaving a thing red line blood, Henry cringed with the pain and Catwoman leaned in to the ear on the same side as the cut. "…I can be very persuasive." She said slowly as her hand probed around his chest. Henry wasn't sure what it was; but, her touching was extremely uncomfortable.

"No stop…" he pleaded; but, even as he started saying the words he could see something in her eyes open up, some kind of realization. That's when Henry realized that Catwoman had stopped probing his chest. With a quick snatch Catwoman ripped off the bulging object on Henry's chest. In the dark of night Catwoman could barely make out the object; but, in the brief light of the moon the object glistened and she could make out what it was. The shock was apparent in her face and Henry could see it as well, in that moment he knew who Catwoman was, it was undeniable. Coincidentally Catwoman then knew who Henry was because the object was a police badge and it revealed that Henry's name was Henry Rao and he was a detective from the G.C.P.D. Something was jarred in Catwoman's mind, it didn't make any sense why would the G.C.P.D. stalk a woman into a dangerous alley.

"You. you're-" Henry started; but it was too late Catwoman had lifted his head up and knocked it violently back onto the pavement and his eyes rolled back into his head. For, what seemed to be, a long moment Catwoman stood staring at the unconscious body of Henry Rao. If he was part of the G.C.P.D. that meant that she wasn't safe. They were probably trying to bring her in, make some excuse get their pay. They didn't need Selena Kyle alive to do that and if they did shed be charged with the kidnapping of Bruce Wayne. This was far worse than she imagined, it would have been fine if the four of them were just crooks trying to get a rape of a purse; but, she was now dealing with a higher power and Catwoman wasn't the target Selena was. Her "normal" life was going to be effected. For a brief moment fear gripped Selena Kyle and her exterior of Catwoman stood in the alley unsure of what to do. Wayne Manor could be reached through East Gotham Way, it could be a sanctuary, someplace to hide out, plus she could feel closer to Bruce. Wherever he was she prayed that he was alright. For his sake and for hers.


	8. Bruce 2

Bruce Wayne sat on the bench that doubled as his bed at night and watch the guard watch him inside the tiny cell. From his count he must have had been stuck in the cell for over a week. When He first woke up he had been alone and then hours later this same guard walked in and brought him two sunny side up eggs, a side of hash, coffee (very dark with 3 sugars) orange juice and yogurt. From the meal he could surmise two things: #1 it was morning and #2 whoever was holding him had impeccable taste. He counted the amount of breakfast that he had received, which totaled 10, so he had been there for at least ten days; but, on top of that he wasn't sure how many days he was knocked out for. There was a hamper in the cell and when he woke up the first time there were two shirts and a pair of pants in it, along with the outfit he was wearing at the bank, this implied that he had been dressed (which he couldn't recall) and that implied he was knocked out for over a day. There wasn't any other way to tell how many days had gone by, no windows and the guard never left while Bruce was awake and when Bruce woke up again the guard was already there with some kind of meal. Aside being held against his will Bruce was being treated very well, in fact, the only thing missing from being at home was the dry banter he had with Alfred from time to time. It was clear; however, that something not as friendly was afoot. Bruce was completely unsure as to why he had been taken. There was the obvious factor; the fact that he was rich and successful was obviously a reason for any ill-willing situations coming against him; but, if he was correct about the time he had been missing then it seemed odd that no connection had been made from Bruce to the outside world. Alfred would deal with those issues; no money could be transfer from Wayne enterprises to any other entity without Bruce's permission and in the case of a ransom of Bruce Alfred served as a mouthpiece. Alfred had a list of demands that had to be met before relinquishing the transferring of monies to actual people in the cooperation. One of the demands was that Bruce have contact with the outside world; anything to show that he was still living just for the sake of knowing; and Bruce had not established that, so in his estimation he was not being held for ransom.

Then why was he being held, Bruce was admittedly in a fog since his kidnapping, his thinking had become erratic and unclear. Bruce noted that he also might be drugged; the effects could either be wearing off or just taking effect. Either way Bruce wasn't sure of where he was, who was holding him or why he was being held. So in all totality Bruce really knew nothing.

The guard looked back over his shoulder to see Bruce still sitting there doing nothing but looking back at the guard. Bruce did know _something_; whoever he was dealing with was professional. The give-away was from the prison like bars that kept Bruce captive. They were wide apart; but, not enough for Bruce to fit his body through. It was a psychological trick that the Chinese used to use to send their captives into dismay. They'd struggle to get out of the bars; but, would not fit, then they'd convince themselves that the bars weren't the problem and they'd begin to starve themselves t become thinner; but, to no avail and then, in their despair the captive would be more likely to reveal secrets and other things of the like. Since Bruce knew this 'trick' he didn't bother to even consider escape as of now. There was no way. As far as he knew there were a thousand other guards like the one watching him just beyond the bend.

For no particular reason Bruce decided to stand up, which only prompted the guard to lazily look over his shoulder. For the first time in, what seemed like, a while Bruce felt rested and limber. He touched his toes, stretched and bent over backwards a little. When he came back up from the last stretch a different man had just come around the bend. Only once before had Bruce seen this man and that was in a sleep like trance.

"Good morning Mr. Wayne…" The man said; Bruce nodded and took notice at the fact that the man mentioned it was morning. "…feeling better?" The man asked.

"Yes, considerably." Bruce answered cautiously; there was something, suddenly, uneven about this situation. Suddenly Bruce felt as if he was at a great disadvantage.

"I know you've been going over in your mind as to why you're here…" The man said as he leaned on the bars to talk to Bruce. "…I just want to assure you that none of us here have any interest in any form of harm coming to you." The man said with an overwhelming amount of sincerity in his voice.

"That's comforting…" Bruce replied. "…I wish I knew why I was being held." Bruce added.

"I know you do; but, really don't wish to explain the entire process to you…" The man said very quickly. "..I will; however, tell you that Gotham is in for the change it so desperately needs." The man lightly explained.

"I'm not sure if I should be worried or excited." Bruce answered. The man smiled.

"Feel both Mr. Wayne…" The man started. "…Change is a very unnerving thing and not everyone is able to deal with it. There will, most certainly, be a good amount of Gothamnites who will not able to handle the change; but, the change will help the city immensely in the long haul." The man said without so much as a thought.

"You seemed to have that speech memorized…" Bruce replied.

"Well Mr. Wayne I'm a man who chooses his words very carefully…" The man looked at his watch; Bruce did so as well. "…Well Mr. Wayne I wish I could stay here and chat with you; but, today is going to be an eventful day." The man smiled and turned on his heel to the guard.

Bruce now knew what time it was. The man's watch read 1:30 and from what the man said it had to be morning. This man claimed to choose his words carefully and Bruce believed him one hundred percent. Bruce leaned against the wall near the bars trying to seem as if he had lost interest in the man; but, instead he listened closely to what the man was saying to the guard.

"Make sure Dent shows up today…" the man started; briefly he looked at Bruce. "…don't talk, touch or even approach him until I return-" Another man slowly came halfway around the bend. Bruce couldn't see the man's face at all; but, from the build he could tell that it was a rather muscular man. This man triggered something in Bruce that made him worry. The polite man who had just finished speaking with Bruce turned to the new man. "…did you get the key?" He asked. The light sound of keys jingling against one another followed shortly after. "…from what the commissioner said the Bat Signal shouldn't be hard to get to with these."

From there Bruce's mind began to whirl; he had to have been drugged, he couldn't focus. There were enough 'key words' in there to get Bruce riled up. "Dent", "Bat Signal". Something was about to go down and Bruce needed to had to do something about it. Not long after the two men were gone and the guard was standing alone. Bruce began to pace in the cell, there had to be something he could do. All he had to do was think and get out of the fog that his brain was stuck in. As he paced his shoe kicked against something solid on the ground, Bruce looked down and saw the piece of glass.

Seeing the glass started to being things back to Bruce. He had been drugged, rather sedated. When he had come to the first time he had began to hyperventilate the calm, friendly man suggested that Bruce rest and he was given a sedative, a powerful one, to ease his body. Within seconds of consuming it Bruce remembered falling over. The glass he was drinking out of must have broken. That's where this small piece must have come from. Bruce raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, he used this obstruction of his face to look at the guard to see if he was watching; but he wasn't. Bruce stretched down to his toes and secretly picked up the glass. Bruce then went back to the small bench/bed and laid down. With the glass in his left hand Bruce secretly placed the glass on his right arm and in a quick motion cut himself. Bruce cringed briefly and then laid silent for a moment.

"God damn it…!" Bruce exclaimed; the guard turned around as Bruce jumped up. "..oh crap…damn!" Bruce continued.

"What's wrong?" The guard asked without moving. Bruce walked over to the bars.

"There was a piece of glass over here and I must have cut myself on it…" Bruce explained. "…pretty nasty." He added for effect. The Guard's face showed skepticism; but, Bruce's bloody arm was undeniable. It was clear the guard was hearing the man's voice directing him not to even have contact with Bruce so Bruce had to do something. He took his other hand and pushed the cut as if to see how deep it was. "…damn _it_!" Bruce yelled; The guard could see the agony in Bruce and began to come over. When the guard was close enough Bruce stuck his arm out the bars for him to see.

"That's bad." The guard commented.

"Yeah, can I get a towel or something?" Bruce asked; the guard looked at the cut and even touched Bruce's arm for a moment.

"Yes, let me get one." The guard turned his back to Bruce.

That was what Bruce was waiting for, the instant the guard's back was gone Bruce's good arm came around the guard's neck and pulled it hard against the bars. The guard struggled viciously, more so than Bruce anticipated and the light headed bliss inside his head was not helping. Bruce; however, did not let go; the guard pushed like a wild animal against Bruce's arm; but, Bruce locked his hands together trying to ensure that the man wouldn't escape. Despite Bruce's grip the guard's strength was starting to win over Bruce's own. Bruce knew that if the guard got away that there would be no other chance. Bruce tried to think of something else to do; but, his mind was scattered, in a million other places. Something snapped suddenly in Bruce's mind and his body followed in action without a demand. Bruce's foot came crashing down on the opposite end of the guards kneecap, causing the guard to lose balance and slip to the ground. That was all Bruce needed to gain the advantage and with a flick of his arm Bruce heard the small click, not much different from the sound one would hear when a lock clicks into a door. The man's neck broke and his body went limp.

Despite his run-ins with murderers and criminals of the like this was the first time Bruce had actually killed someone. The shock of having done it sent him careening backwards onto the floor in a shock. His breathing quickened and his chest tightened, whatever they had done to him was causing him to have these attacks. Bruce knew he had to calm down, so he closed his eyes and counted backwards. After about seven minutes Bruce felt calm enough to stand, or at least crawl to the guard and rummage his body for the keys which he found after an even longer five minutes. Bruce stood and took a deep breathe and then released himself from the cell. Bruce dragged the guard into the cell and place his body on the bench/bed facing the wall away from the bars and then locked the cell behind him. Bruce wasn't sure if he was going to get out of wherever this place was; but, he had gotten out of the cell.

Now for the rest.


	9. Raymond

After the war many of the soldiers and fighters came back to the country with a flurry of fanfare and excitement; however, when that died off the men and women had to somehow fit back into society. They realized that heroism only really existed in a time of need or despair. If you took away the threat then subsequently you erased any hero that may have spawned from it. For the average person in an average war that could be shocking, to be needed and the suddenly forgotten. Some of it was understandable, the people's attention span couldn't last forever, eventually they _had_ to forget it was only human nature, despite their flags and stickers that read 'we will never forget' the people failed to understand the new hardship the fighters ad to go through. The physical danger had gone but the social and economic danger had just begun; many of them found themselves without jobs or even homes struggling with the mental anguish and traumatic wanderings that plagued their minds. Post-traumatic stress disorder and a whole new list of mental shortcomings came about. The worst and most common being one named Latent-Stress Recall Disorder. LSRD was common before the war; but, wasn't actually seen as an actual disorder until troops from the war started acting irrationally. The disorder was one that apparently triggered old stresses that the mind had subdued and magnified them due to an intensely traumatic experience. Most of the troops who suffered from LSRD were involved in ambushes and near fatal attacks. The results of the disorder varied; but, shared a common trait: destruction. Troops suffering from LSRD were most commonly cited as to be violent or irate. Some became criminals; but, most became social degenerates, back alley wanderers, number pushers and whatever else they could do to entertain their new sick desire to lash out against the world that had turned its back on them.

Some; however, were too smart and too angry to become mere social degenerates or common criminals. The training one gets in the army is useable for life and some decided to make a living that way.

Raymond Hernandez was one of those people who decided that he wanted to use his skill to make a living. Raymond was only; but, so old when he joined the army. Raymond needed something to get away from his mundane life. The army seemed like a good option, the country was peaceful and he could learn a trade in a rather short amount of time, plus they would pay for college tuition. There was no good reason not to join the army so he followed suit. Six months was all it took for a conflict to arise and a war to start. Raymond, as was everyone else, was surprised and taken aback by the quick development of the war and before he could even fully put together the entire conflict and whether he agreed with it he was rushed to the battlefield. Raymond was a nobody in a sea of people willing to fight and die for a cause they hadn't seen or heard. Initially he was protected by older soldiers who felt a sympathy for him; but, that didn't last very long because most of his 'friends' were killed in the first three waves of the war. There was a three year wait to get discharged for leave and when the time came for Raymond to leave he opted not to do so. The battleground had become his home, his dead friends deserved to have him fight for as long as he possibly could, plus he had changed as a human being. War was now exhilarating and intriguing; Raymond began to rise in the ranks, everyone was noticing his bravery and skill. Not before long he found himself as a hero of the army, so every time he was able to go on leave he decided not to. Raymond could have been called the best; most people probably could not sustain seven years in a war without any form of leave and still be functional; but, somehow he managed to pull it off. His strategies were flawless and he became more and more dangerous as time passed on. His name was carried throughout the army and when the war came to an end in year twelve Raymond was a full fledge legend.

As mentioned before it didn't take very long for things to turn over. His return home had revealed the death of most of his immediate family; he had no money to travel to his other families residences and his LSRD had started to appear shortly after his return. The government helped Raymond for three years and then the benefits became harder and harder to pursue. Jobs never called back, friends never called back. Eventually Raymond was alone and living on the streets. Raymond never stayed stationary, he moved from city to city eventually ending up in Newark, New Jersey. Raymond decided to stay there for longer then usual; but, three weeks into staying there he was attacked by a group of young thugs. None of them were older than he was when he had joined the army and in a way that sparked some sympathy from Raymond; but, the gang tried to kill Raymond and he was; thusly, forced to kill each and everyone of them in a different and painful way. That was when he decided to lend his expertise in killing to different people in need. At first it started off very shady; but, eventually became a business that found him becoming, in no exaggeration of the word, rich. That was the profession he was in now, he enjoyed it and he was very good at it. It brought him all around the world and now it saw him in Gotham City. Raymond wasn't sure what Brummer did as a profession; but, it didn't matter. Raymond was being paid a hefty price to oversee some ideas Brummer had put in place. It was not Raymond's place to ask if something was right or wrong; to him it didn't matter. If the pay was right he was going to do his job to the best of his ability. That being said Raymond had never come across something as grand as this plan; what he did on this job was going to directly effect the lives of everyone who lived, worked or even visited this town. Raymond was going to be apart of something much bigger than him; this hadn't been true since he first entered the army. Even while he was in the army in the latter years he had become bigger than the threat, bigger than the war; his name was the biggest thing to come out of the war. This; however, was different, even if people found out he was apart of this plan it would mean little. The sheer shock of the change Gotham would have to endure would knock his name right off people's tongue. It was a little unnerving for Raymond; but, the pay was right, very right, and that meant that he had to put these nervous feelings aside and put his focus on the job at hand. This job had multiple steps that would take place over a course of time. This would be the longest job he had ever taken and it could also be the last job he took. If it all went as plan Raymond may gain a new place in society. That was a sweet and sour idea, change was different and it could mean some form of success; but, success wasn't as alluring as it was all those years ago. Success meant the birth of a failure, somewhere down the road it had to come to an end. Raymond was comfortable with his momentary successes; they ended at the end of a job and could not be reversed. This was going to be different; this was going to be a lifetime of change.

Raymond looked at his watch, it read: Two-Fifteen. It was almost Showtime; he stood up and looked down from the roof of the building to the street below. Gotham was not like New York at all. In New York people were on the street all day long and all night long; in Gotham people rarely walked in the streets when the sun went down. Gotham wasn't exactly the most peaceful place; but, at Two O' Clock in the morning anything was a nice place. The most industrial of places could succumb to the calm, peaceful smell of morning dew. The thing that separated Raymond from other people with LSRD was that he _knew_ he was sick. It was something that he was completely aware of one hundred and ten percent of the time. Raymond was aware that his decisions were effected by the disorder and he embraced that. There was nothing he would change; he was aware that with the proper treatment he could live a 'normal' life. But with the pay he was getting why would he want a normal life when he could watch the world burn?

"


	10. A Bad Signal

"Why the hell am I doing this…?" Harvey Dent questioned himself as he drove down the street in darkness. "…this is ridiculous; I'm an idiot, why the _hell_ am I doing this?" Harvey asked himself again. For the last few days he had been getting letters from "Batman" explaining all sorts of things; crime, social issues, the state of the corruption in the city and in the final letter, which he had only received early yesterday morning, explained that they should meet to discuss a possible teaming up of sorts to bring down crime more effectively. It all sounded well and nice except it didn't make any sense; The Batman didn't communicate with people via mail and he was most certainly not interested in having Harvey Dent as his sidekick. Nothing about this meeting made and kind of sense at all; but, if it was true Harvey had a good thing going on. He was district attorney now; but, if he teamed up with the Batman and brought down crime his name would go far, who knew where the buck would stop; A.G., Mayor, hell maybe even Governor. It was too good of an offer pass up; even if it was a crock of loose shit. As he was driving the sky seemed to open up into light, Harvey bent his head down to see upwards. The Bat signal had been turned on; Harvey looked at his watch: Two-Twenty Two. Harvey cursed, he was going to be late; but this was ridiculous it was too early in the morning to be driving around Gotham City to meet "the Batman" for a "chat". Harvey pressed his foot down on the pedal a little harder and the car roared a little louder and sped down the street. It wasn't long until Harvey car was parked outside of the Police Department secondary headquarters. The GCPDHQ2 as it was called by most officials was built as a way to spread the Police department across the entire city to process crimes quicker, more efficiently; but, in all actuality the only person whoever did work in the GCPDHQ2 was James Gordon. Harvey liked Gordon, he was a different kind of law official; one could tell that Gordon wasn't effected about the large amount of corruption ripping through the city. Harvey knew about Gordon's work in Chicago, which is where he had been transferred from, and his work there was phenomenal; he turned the entire city around. This one, older, man went out on the streets and brought crime to its knees. His attitude was something to admire as well, Harvey had lived in Gotham all his life and had seen it bad and worse and it effected his work from time to time; but, Gordon, who had been in Gotham for a decade now, never seemed to let the state of the city get to him each time a problem surfaced Gordon worked harder at the problem, and the G.C.P.D. was probably the most corrupt of all Gotham agencies. Everything Gordon did to make the city safer had to go through several people who's interest were effected by some form of payment they were getting from some criminal; but, _Gordon_ knew that too and yet he never seemed to seemed to be phased by it. Gordon worked harder and harder and the results were showing, if only a little.

Harvey slammed the door of the car and walked over to the sidewalk before stopping and walking halfway back to the car door.

"Damn it!" Harvey yelled; quickly he dug his hand into his pocket and blindly rummaged through it until he pulled out a coin. For a moment Harvey looked at it and then flipped it, without blinking he caught it and placed it on the back of his left hand fist and removed his right hand.

Heads.

Visibly frustrated Harvey went back to the street, digging into his back pocket for the key. All the D.A.'s had the key to G.C.P.D.H.Q. so that they might view files whenever necessary. Harvey walked quickly inside the building and hurried to the elevator and pressed the button. A long pause and Harvey suddenly realized that the elevators were shut down for the night, which meant he had to walk.

"Shit!" Harvey yelled; he rushed to the stairs and began to jog upstairs to the roof. Around the third flight Harvey was sitting on the stairs breathing heavily, cursing himself. It took him five minutes of recuperation and then started back upstairs. Naturally the door to the roof was locked and Harvey had to search frustrated through the keys to find the right one to open the door. That took him another three minutes and finally he was on the roof. He stood there for a moment in the early morning air and the Bat signal light was blinding him slightly. Harvey looked at his watch: Two-Thirty.

"All right Bats, its Showtime." Harvey said impatiently as he leaned on a nearby wall and waited.

Coincidences were something that one could laugh at. Something so close together and yet far apart that they honestly couldn't be anything else aside from chance. The Bat Signal turning on whilst Batman was on route to the G.C.P.D.H.Q.2 was not coincidence, it was something more and Batman was more than willing to find out why these events were happening; but, the kidnapping of Bruce Wayne, the mentioning of Harvey Dent and everything else had to be connected somehow. The Batman landed on a roof and thought. What could this all be? Maybe it wasn't something sinister; maybe it was something that happened to involve all of them. They were the defenders of the city; but, if that was the case then he wouldn't have this gut feeling that something was going on. Batman aimed his grappling hook and soared to the next rooftop, still deep in thought. The fog from earlier was starting to wear off; but, not one hundred percent. The light from the Bat Signal was airy and a bit dreamlike. It was causing Batman to have somewhat of a small headache; but, nothing he would consider to be an issue. Finally Batman landed next to the Bat Signal.

Usually Gordon would be standing by the switch and turn it off when Batman landed; but, this time it stayed on. Batman looked around, he couldn't see much, the light from the signal was stifling, astoundingly so at that. Batman walked a little closer to the Bat signal to see if he could switch it off. The moment he found the switch he heard something not very far call out to him, Batman looked up and squinted in the glaring light, in the distance he could see someone, a man in a suit. The man was waving, Batman recognized him: Harvey Dent.

That's when it caught his eye, for a fraction of a second he saw it in the corner of his eye. The light flicked red and it took only a second for Batman to recognize the device; there wasn't anytime for an action other than gritting his teeth and brace for what was coming next.

Harvey Dent called out for Batman and the Batman looked up and seemed to grin; confused Harvey began closer to that Batman, he never saw it coming and never would see it end.

The light from the Bat signaled woke James Worthington Gordon, and as he reached for his glasses he angrily swore. Gordon peered out the window intently trying to see something, some kind of inclination that things were in order; but, there was nothing he could see from this far away. Gordon's apartment was directly across from G.C.P.D.H.Q.2 because it was convenient and he could clearly see the Bat signal from his house. Gordon kept his gun in the drawer next to his bed; quickly he took that out and rushed for his pants and keys. Silently his daughter, Barbra, slipped into his room.

"What's wrong daddy?" Barbra asked calmly; slightly annoyed. Gordon turned to his young daughter quickly and put his hand out.

"Nothing sweetie…" Gordon explained in a rushed hurry that contradicted the very words he spoke. "…did I wake you?" he asked.

"Yes." She tersely and sincerely answered. Gordon hopped into one leg of his pants and his glasses fell off his face.

"I'm sorry honey…" Gordon apologized reaching for his glasses. "…If you can't fall back asleep, we'll watch a movie when I get back; but, don't tell your brother alright?" Gordon smiled; but, there was still some worry in his voice. Barbra, staring unconvinced of the mock serenity her father was trying to convey, didn't answer immediately her face stared blankly, almost upset.

"Fine." She answered; Gordon smiled, his daughter was a hard ass, even he admitted it. Gordon sometimes felt embarrassed when he was caught in a lie or something of the like by her. Barbra had this face; this silent stare that said enough to quiet even Gordon. No one else ever gave him a stare so powerful, no one except The Batman…

"Good, alright…" Gordon slipped on the other leg. "…but you have to try to fall asleep or else it wouldn't be fair to James that you-" Before Gordon could finish there was a sound. It was quiet sound; but, one of those sounds where it was clearly an earth shattering sound from far away. Before Gordon could process the sound the sheer impact knocked Gordon flat on his face and then the windows exploded in a flash, Barbra fell backwards and the entire building shook. Quickly and with an adrenaline rush, Gordon jumped up and from instinct looked across out the window.

To his dismay he saw nothing but fire reaching up to the dark sky; the Bat signal was gone replace by falling debris and chaos. It was a stunning site to see, the sheer power of the explosion still had the air the electrical charge. Gordon turned to Barbra and picked her up.

"Go get your brother and go into the basement and do not move until I come back for you!" He demanded; Gordon knew that even though James Jr. was older Barbra was better mentally equipped to lead. Without a word she nodded and ran into her brother's room. Gordon checked his ammunition clip and saw it was full. He looked back once more and the fire was subsiding, he then turned and ran down stairs.

Raymond held the explosive device's trigger in his hand and smiled at his doings.

"Goodbye Batman and Harvey Dent" he said out loud; he then threw the trigger over the roof to the ground below that was now ravaged with debris. Raymond picked out his cellular phone and dialed, only a moment of waiting. "…it's done; send your crew over here to pick up the bodies." Raymond rung off and the chaos in front of him was like home. The second part of his job was done; Batman and Harvey Dent were both dead.

Let the change begin.


	11. Inspector Gordon

It took an entire half hour for Gordon to get to the nearly demolished building. That was because as he was running down the stairs of his apartment building he dropped his car keys down the stair shaft and by the second people were filling the stairway making it harder and harder for Gordon to able to see the floor. When he got into his car he was blocked by people filling the streets to see what was going on. At first Gordon relied on the power of his voice to scream people out the way; but, when he remembered he had his portable siren in the trunk he quickly got out of the car and grabbed it and put it on the dashboard of his car. The siren worked well enough; but, Gordon still had to stick his head out the window and shout at stubborn people who would not move. Gordon couldn't any closer to the building than four blocks away because of debris and falling debris. Despite his better judgment Gordon got out of the car and trudged carefully to the building. Gordon tripped a couple of times; but, when he got to the building he found that the front door was not blocked off. The inside of G.C.P.D.H.Q.2 was a mess, though seemed to be intact. The explosion seemed to have rocked things off shelves and toppled some items here and there and the foundation of the walls, ceiling and floor seemed to be knocked heavily out of place. That being said it didn't seem, to Gordon, that the building would fall apart. The stairwell was messed up, the lights had been knocked off their sockets and the stairs themselves had cracked, still though, Gordon ran up the stairs to the roof and found the door was jammed into place. Gordon struggled with the door for a few minutes; pushing it, trying to knock it over, trying to pull if off. After that didn't work Gordon shot out the door handle. Initially that was a action to relieve some of the frustration he had; but, he noticed that it was, in fact, the handle lock that was keeping the door from opening, wedged between itself and the lock hole the door was stuck in place. The gunshot forced the lock off the door and with a few shoulder thrust the door opened up.

The roof was far worse than anything Gordon could have imagined. The smoke from the explosion was like a glove choking his throat. Gordon was forced to take of his coat and place it over his head and face to protect himself from the thick smoke and cinder in the air. The roof had no definite shape anymore, the spot where the Bat signal was had been blown out and was crumbling. To the direct left of the spot the Bat signal was located the edge of the roof had been blasted off into an adjacent parking lot. All around small fires and burning wreckage add light in the darkness. Gordon tried to get closer to see if he could see what was left of the Bat signal; but, the twisted steel and glass had piled up too far for him to climb over. Somehow Gordon made his way south of the signal where the fire escapes were; cautiously Gordon looked over the edge. Not to his surprise every fire escape had been knocked to the ground by some kind of falling debris; Gordon could see from the roof that his office had been utterly wiped out.

"Damn." He groaned to himself; all his reports were in there, all those criminals that had to be processed. Gordon took a step back and fell over some metal and landed on his back. He pressed his left hand down and felt the searing pain of heat on it; quickly he drew it back and rolled over onto his stomach. As he rolled he saw it, in took him by complete surprise and even caused Gordon to yell out loud. Gordon forced himself to stand and then lean over the body.

"Jesus, fucking, Christ…" Gordon spat to himself, the sheer shock of what he was seeing made him forget to hold his jacket over his head and it fell to the ground. Gordon stood there over the partially visible body of Harvey Dent.

Dent's body was covered by some sheets of hot metal; but, his chest and head were visible. From what Gordon could see, Harvey had taken a direct blow from the explosion and probably had burns all over his body; but, he was breathing lightly. Without thought Gordon took out his cell phone and dialed.

"Kingston; its Gordon…" He yelled. "…get a squad and a ambulance down to H.Q. two right now." He listened to the man talk for a moment. "…I don't know what happened but I'm standing over the body of the district attorney, who's lying in a pool of his own blood and it looks like his face may have been cut in half." Gordon explained before quickly ringing off. Gordon squatted and got closer to the body of Harvey Dent to take a better look of his face. There was nothing he could see really; blood had drenched all of Harvey's face. Gordon inspected more closely and could see that Dent was unconscious, his eyes were closed; but, on the side of his face that seemed to be blasted off his eye was open because his eyelid had been mostly, either, burned or scraped off by something.

"Shit." Gordon let the word fall from his mouth in a long drawn out moment of shock. The sheer gruesomeness of what had befallen Harvey was enough to make Gordon sick. All Gordon could do was hold his hand over his mouth to keep from vomiting.

It was around that point when Gordon realized that he wasn't alone on the roof with Harvey. Voices came from within the chaos and revealed two men in G.C.P.D. uniforms searching through the wreckage.

"Hey you…!" Gordon yelled out to the two men; their heads jerked up in surprise to see Gordon and they stared a bit dumbfounded at Gordon for a moment. "..Get over here we got a live one!" Gordon continued; one of the men gestured for the other to walk over while he picked up a portable talking device and began talking into it. The other man trudged over the debris towards Gordon and barely acknowledged him before looking over the body. The man took a quick glance at the body and seemed not to care who it was.

"It's Harvey Dent…!" He called out to the other man who nodded quickly and began talking into the device before turning his back towards them.

"I wonder what the hell could have happened here." Gordon thought out loud looking directly at the man, who had now turned his attention back to Harvey Dent's body.

"News reported a storm coming through Gotham…" The man started not looking away from Harvey's body. "…lightning could have struck the signal causing the explosion." The man suggested. The idea of lightening striking the Bat signal and created an explosion this massive seemed so farfetched to Gordon that he almost scoffed at the man.

"Right; but, what the hell would Harvey Dent be doing up here?" Gordon continued to ask; the man barely turned his head to face Gordon when addressing him this time.

"I'm sure these are all questions that are going to come up in the investigation…" He responded very quickly. Gordon immediately decided to leave the guy alone; he seemed not to want to talk so Gordon turned around and started going through some of the wreckage.

That's when he saw it, At first Gordon looked right passed it mistaking it for just another piece of wreckage; but, something inside of him picked at him to look closer and on further inspection he positively identified it. A tightening of the chest came to Gordon; he suddenly felt unable to breathe or think. The entire roof seemed to swirl around him, his body was suddenly moving without dictation and it took the object and shoved it inside his shirt. Cautiously he looked to see if the other man was looking; but, he was not so Gordon took a peek at the object just to verify his original inspection. In his hand he held the mask of Batman.

Something was happening that Gordon knew was going on above his head and with that suspicion he realized several things. Number one: he didn't recognize either of the men on the roof; he got around the different precincts and knew most of the officers by name, and knew all of the officers by face, yet these two didn't ring a bell with him. The second was that the gun the man, who was inspecting Harvey, was holstering was not a standard issue G.C.P.D. handgun. At this man's side was a flashy Beretta, something fast…a street gun. The third was the question of how did either of the men get to the roof this quickly. At this hour all patrols are taken off the streets because of the low level of people on the street. Crimes were committed during the afternoon and early evening hours and whatever crimes that were committed at this hour were committed where a patrol car couldn't get to. Officers were kept in stations and _all _the stations were kept on the other end of the city; judging by the amount of time it took for Gordon to get from seven blocks away, it would take two cops, who were coming all the way from west Gotham, twice the amount of time to get to the site. The fourth was how they got onto the roof, when Gordon had come up the stairs the door had been jammed beyond capacity.

A sinking feeling suddenly started to come over Gordon; he could sense that these men were not men he could trust, and then finding the Batman's mask seemed to say two things. The first was that Batman was on this roof and the explosion probably had something to do with his being there; the second was more figurative. Every time he saw the Batman it was to discuss how to make the city better now finding this mask meant that the Batman was unable to give him the next clue and he was on his own. Gordon instantly knew that he could not leave Harvey Dent with these people. Gordon looked over his shoulder to see if the first man was still with his back towards them, which he was. Gordon slowly picked up a piece of debris. Gordon walked over back to Dent's body.

"Is he alive…?" Gordon asked; the other man put something into his breast pocket.

"For the most part" the man answered; Gordon nodded and his eyes shifted in both directions.

"...what the hell is that over there?" Gordon pointed over the man's shoulder and the man quickly turned his attention in the direction that Gordon was pointing at. With that as a distraction Gordon reached over his shoulder and smacked the pipe he had picked up over the back of the man's head. The man fell slowly onto the debris under him and Gordon followed up that action by taking his cell phone out and dialing.

"Kingston it's me again…" Gordon started. "…get a Medivac chopper down here as soon as possible to pick up Harvey Dent; but listen…" Gordon lowered his voice. "…if anyone ask _I_ put this order through. You come down here too and bring your gun and be careful…" Gordon explained; on the other end Kingston asked Gordon what was going on. "…I don't know; but, whatever it is it's not good. When you get here I want you not to leave Harvey Dent's side." Gordon explained; Kingston agreed and Gordon rung off. Gordon leaned over the fake G.C.P.D. officer and examined what he had put inside his breast pocket, he found a key and he took it. Right after Gordon put his coat over the man's body. It covered him well and Gordon began to drag the body across the roof.

"Hey, looks like there was at least one casualty…" Gordon called out to the other man. "…and you wouldn't believe who he's dressed as." Gordon wasn't sure why he said the last part; but, something told him to do it.

"Batman?" the man answered; just from the answer Gordon knew that he was doing the right thing.

"Yeah; how'd you guess?" Gordon asked.

"Good guess, let's see it…" The man asked as he walked over.

"It's pretty nasty; you're buddy over there went down to put the body on the books, I'm going to take this one down to the morgue before the smoke causes anymore damage." Gordon explained. The man moved closer.

"Just let me see…" The man insisted; but, Gordon was already starting down the stairs.

"You can't see who he is, burns are too deep…" Gordon explained. "…we'll all know who he is soon enough" Gordon said no more and went down the stairs. The heavy body started to cause an ache in his back; but, Gordon was able to get the body down the stairs into the trunk of the car. Gordon took a deep breath and leaned against the car; he wasn't sure what the hell he was doing it; but, now that he had started it he had to finish it. Gordon opened the door and threw himself into the driver's seat and started the car.

To the right of his vision Gordon could see the sun starting to come up over the horizon. Yesterday was already gone and a new day was beginning; something immensely saddening was filling Gordon. Here he was driving out of town with the body of some strange man in the trunk of his car, wondering if Batman was alive or dead. When Gordon agreed to transfer from Chicago to Gotham he knew that it was going to be a stressful change. It takes a lot to go from success to back to the problems you tried to solve in the first place. The most disheartening thing; however, was that Gotham was much worse now, ten years later, than Chicago was when he had first began there. Gotham was showing little to no process in the war against corruption and crime. Gotham has Batman now; but, it was days like these that began to make Gordon wonder if he was able to turn Gotham over.

Chicago was bad when Gordon became chief of police; crime was at an all time high. There was an average of twenty five muggings per week and petty crimes were happening everywhere. Gordon was quick on ending the smaller crimes; his belief that when crimes of any sort are attacked and ultimately defeated it shows everyone else who commits any type of crime that the city, or state, or nation will not put up with it and thusly puts a fear into criminal's hearts; a fear that could possibly deter them from committing another crime. Gordon's belief worked well in Chicago; he put cops back on the streets and criminals back in prison. The little crimes stopped and the bigger criminals fell in line; but, that wasn't the case for Gotham. First of all at its best Gotham is far worse than Chicago was at its very worst. Petty crimes in Gotham were so rampant that there was literally no way to keep track of pick pocketing and muggings in the city. A national survey of crime found that at any given time ten thefts were occurring inside Gotham city. Gotham held the record in every criminal category for most crimes committed in any given month. Four hundred and twenty-five thefts were _reported_ in one month and it was widely known that because of the crime families in Gotham that most crimes were, in fact, not reported. Gordon was shocked at the severity of the crime in Gotham. It took Gordon fifteen years to clean up Chicago and now here he was again back at square one with the city he thought could be saved. It certainly didn't feel that way anymore; Gotham felt like it was spiraling more and more out of control by the moment, mostly in the sense of corruption. Batman had changed so much in terms of criminals worked. While some people blamed Batman for criminals like Killer Croc and Scarface, Gordon saw it differently. Most criminals had rethought there lives, rethought the idea of living there lives day to day looking for someone to prey on; because now they knew that not far away there was going to be Batman. Something that couldn't be corrupted and wouldn't care about bail and bond prices; those who decided to become more lavish criminals and directly go after the idea of Batman were desperate, they were trying to hold on to the last thing that they had left. Batman did not create these villains, there coming to be was only a step in their own destruction. Batman had been the single bravest person in Gotham City; not only because he fought dangerous criminals on his own; but, because he sacrificed whatever life he had to take up this burden. Gordon was a professional, employed by the system, he got a paycheck, and he was able to care for his son and daughter and to put food into his own mouth. But what about Batman? What was he able to do to provide for himself? It was hard for Gordon to understand how a man could take up the burden of a whole city while simultaneously trying to balance his own life. Eventually something had to give and Gordon worried about the man who was Batman, though he'd never say it, the truth was Gotham and Gordon needed Batman.

Gordon slammed on the brakes and the car jerked to a stop. Gordon had lost himself in a thought and almost crossed over Potts Bridge. Gordon had seen his share of dark alleys and abandoned buildings; but, Potts Bridge was still the single eeriest thing he had ever seen. Use of the bridge has been strongly discouraged by the state government; the bridge was old and only standing up by some stoke of luck. Black and molded over on every inch Potts Bridge the first bridge built that lead, officially out of Gotham and it was also the last one to be fixed up. At this point Potts Bridge would have to be demolished and rebuilt in order for the construction to be successful, the state didn't want to putt he money up for it ad the main reasons were that it cost too much and that in a decade or so the bridge wouldn't be needed. Hatchmond Lake was almost completely dried up, after the Hudson River went through its renovation water stopped flowing both ways into Hatchmond Lake and thusly, after time, the lake had began to dry up. Aside from that the smell was horrible. Back in the darker days the mob would use the lake as a dumping point for all their kills, after some years the stench became unbearable and people naturally stopped going near it. In fact the lake had become so notorious for harboring corpses that the morgue was built on the other end of the bridge to accommodate. Gordon popped the door open and stepped out of the car; cautiously he walked to the trunk and listened to hear if the man had come to yet. There was no sound so Gordon knocked on the trunk to see if he could illicit a response; but, again there was no sound. Gordon was starting to get frustrated, there was a part of him that wanted the man to have come to so at least Gordon would know how to approach the trunk. But what if the man was conscious and waiting for Gordon to open the trunk, bracing himself to jump out and attack Gordon. It wasn't as if Gordon couldn't fight, he just didn't like to; it wasn't as if he was still twenty at this point in his life he wasn't sure what kind of force his arms and legs could still muster up. Gordon reached into his shoulder strap, pulled out his gun and held it to the trunk. Gordon's whole arm shook when he pointed the gun to the trunk; it was a nervous tick that he had since he was young. In his career Gordon had only shot a gun eight times, five of those times were just for the theatrical effect of scaring the criminal. Gordon breathed deeply trying to calm his nerves and get his arm to stop shaking so much; not after long he did calm down and his left arm reached for the trunk and quickly lifted it up. The gun started shaking again; but, the man was still knocked out in the trunk and Gordon let out a sigh of relief, the gun went back into the shoulder holster and Gordon bent down to pick up the man. The man was a lot heavier than Gordon remembered him being when he put him in the trunk. It took several hard pulls, three swears and eleven grunts for Gordon to get the man out of the trunk and slumped on the pavement. Gordon dragged the man to the edge of the road where the ground steepened into a small beach like area before leading into Hatchmond Lake. The fall wasn't deadly; one could roll down the embankment and simply get dirty. Gordon already felt bad about what he was going to do next; he took the man's wallet out the man's pocket and looked at it for a second before taking the money out and putting that back in the man's pocket. Chances were that this guy was not going to able to get back up the embankment because the ground was severely damaged and unstable; Gordon would call one of his non-crooked officers and have him pick up this man, the man would be detained after that because he had no identification and by Gotham law people in services of the G.C.P.D. needed proper I.D. in order to file reports or filed as witnesses, or victims. That little law would keep this guy out of Gordon's hair for a while since Gordon was going to keep his wallet; that would allow Gordon enough time, hopefully, to start to understand what was happening around him. Without anymore thought Gordon rolled the man down the embankment and watched as he rolled, silently hoping that the man didn't inadvertently roll into Hatchmond Lake. The man rolled like a rag doll for what seemed to be an hour and stopped just short of the lake; but, his right hand did rest inside the water when he was in his final position after rolling. Gordon sucked his teeth.

"Sorry buddy" Gordon said as he put the man's wallet in his own jacket pocket.

The sun was at that point between early morning night and early morning day. When the sky was purple and blue and the sun was in a half wink to the world, when Gordon had started the car back over the bridge; it took him a long twenty seven minutes to get to the morgue because he of broken tree braches and debris on the road. Gordon stepped into the morgue and instantly did something he rarely ever did: he buttoned up his coat. The cold chill of the morgue was not very welcoming, and neither was the solitude. Morgues weren't usually heavily populated with employees; but, upon entering one one could expect to see some kind of receptionist or something to welcome them. This; however, was not the case in Gotham morgue; there was absolutely no one there to greet Gordon when he entered, so he just continued into the back of the morgue, where the bodies were held. Gordon was relieved to see that there was a lone woman standing over a body taking notes. Gordon cleared his throat and walked up to the woman.

"James Worthington Gordon…" he announced as he approached the woman with his badge in his hand. "…I'm with the G.C.P.D. I need your help with a body." Gordon tried to sound casual; but, the woman was giving him a look that he couldn't place. Slowly and without looking away from Gordon's face the woman took the badge and then looked at it for a long moment, and then she started to bend it; but, to no avail.

"I get a lot of fake cops in here…" The woman said in a monotone voice; as she handed the badge back to Gordon. "…Harleen Quinzel; what can I do for you?" The woman introduced herself with a light handshake.

"Haven't I seen you somewhere before…?" Gordon asked, sidetracked by the fact that the woman and her name seemed very familiar. The woman gave a disinterested nod.

"You probably have…" She answered. "…I work at Arkham, I'm a psychiatrist there." Quinzel tersely answered; Gordon nodded and smiled.

"I actually just finished reading your analysis on killer croc…" Gordon admitted. "…I have to say your report surprise me; most of the psychiatrist in Arkham believe the criminals are insane and offer them the easy way out." Gordon explained.

"A psychopath like Killer Croc may be crazy; but, he's not incapable of thinking…" Quinzel started. "…He knew what he was doing; thusly, Arkham is not the place for him." She concluded; instantly Gordon liked her; but, his purpose for being there suddenly hit him.

"O.k. well I need your help with something…" Gordon started. "…are you acting Diener?" Gordon asked; Quinzel nodded.

"Yes; until the other guy comes back I'm working this and Arkham…" Quinzel started. "…ever since this Batman character appeared there have been less admissions into Arkham." Quinzel explained.

"You could say he's working you out of a job…"Gordon chuckled; but, Quinzel didn't even seem to give the slightest hint of being humored. "…not much of a joker I see." Gordon said under his breath.

"I don't really like funny people." Quinzel responded; revealing that she had heard him.

"Either way I need you to lie about having a body come through here…" Gordon said bluntly. Quinzel's face dropped instantly and she turned away from Gordon.

"Listen I don't deal with G.C.P.D. politics; so I'm not going to be apart of any corruption you may have planned. If you want to do that then I'm sure you have a way of getting me out of this office." Quinzel fought back.

"No, no you don't understand…" Gordon struggled to find words. "…I'm doing this to avoid corruption; I'm doing this to help the integrity of the G.C.P.D." Gordon answered.

"I'm sure; but, I cannot help you." Quinzel answered; Gordon's anger rose to a point where he couldn't control it.

"Listen…" he said sternly. "…I've been working to save this city for a long time now. I've seen good people come and I've seen good people go. I use to pride myself on being above the corruption; but; sometimes you can't escape it. Sometimes to destroy the things you hate the most is to use there own techniques, you have to show them that you can be ruthless and that the most important in your life is to be rid of those things and that's what I'm trying to do, I'm trying to save this city and now I need your help to do it." The moment was tense; Gordon hadn't meant to say nearly as much as he did. Gordon turned away from Quinzel; he'd have to figure out another plan.

"Wait…" Quinzel started. "…I know what you mean; you have to understand that what you're asking could cost me my job." Quinzel answered.

"I know; but, this city is going to be too busy picking up the pieces to worry about you and I when this is all done." Gordon explained. There was a long silence."

"How am I going to fake this?" Quinzel asked.

"The medical examiner for the G.C.P.D. is sick, if you stick to the story that the body was processed by him then they'll have to wait until this guy comes back; they'll pressure you to break the law; but, I can deal with that from my office." Gordon explained.

"Fine; who's the body?" Quinzel asked.

"We don't know; you're waiting for D.N.A. results to come back to identify the body; it was burned pretty badly." Gordon explained; Quinzel nodded and sighed.

"Fine." She answered.

"This is going to be over soon, I appreciate your cooperation."


	12. The Interlude

Gordon was wrong about the time-frame of how long it would take to clear everything up. Three weeks went by and there was no sign of Batman anywhere; there was also no sign of Bruce Wayne. Most people believed that Bruce Wayne was lying in a ditch somewhere, dead for some time, and most people weren't aware that Batman had gone missing. A lot had happened after the explosion; G.C.P.D. was revealed to be 'compromised' and a millionaire from out of town came and took over the helm to keep peace within the city. Gordon found that his job's title had been drastically reduced to nearly nothing now that this new man, Carlist Brummer, had added a new division of peacekeepers to the G.C.P.D. So while Gordon had not been fired, too many new positions had been added ahead of his for his job to have any proper purpose. During the day he filed paperwork that further put this man, Brummer, into power and at night he moonlighted trying to find clues to help him uncover what happened to Batman. There was no success; however, nothing he could find gave him any clue to what happened that night and, as time went by he knew that whoever he was hiding Batman from, would find out that there was no body on the roof that night.

There was no trust between Gordon and this man, Brummer, either. They had met once and it didn't go well; Gordon retreated back into his monosyllable shell and refused to answer any questions to the man. Gordon knew Brummer had something to do with _something_; but, he could be positive as to what it was.

The same could be said for Brummer, his plan went well. The two most powerful men in Gotham city were out of commission. There was no legal power or vigilante power that could stop Brummer from doing what he wanted now.

"Imperialism is part of human behavior…" Brummer explained to Elliot, his secretary and friend, one day. "…Everyone on this planet wants something more; but, what exist already exist. You can create something new for yourself; but, things like land and personal possessions can't be recreated, or at least can't be recreated fast enough to be still desirable at the end result. As much as that is true, most human beings, actually, do not want to be seen as villains. They have an underlying desire to be seen as, at least, decent people. Anything less becomes a nagging sensation in the back of one's head. "Am I wrong?" "Do I deserve what I have?" etcetera, etcetera, so as a mean to appease both desires they turn to one thing: flaws. Flaws provide a reason, an excuse, for one to take what he desires. If a man wants land and sees a vacant lot, he plants a tree in it and calls it his. The lot had no purpose before; but, now sustains life, it now has a beauty to it, so when the state tries to take back the land he says: "look what I created, look at the value I gave this lot, it's mine." Or when animals are displaced in a natural disaster, someone adopts them; but, when the time comes for the original owner to start their life again and they ask for _their_ pet back, one is extremely reluctant to return the animal. Flaws in the world make it easy for imperialistic ideas to become true. If you want something so bad, get it used and abused and then fix it; by that token you are the owner at that moment…" Brummer paused to sip his coffee. "…Gotham city is a prime example of that kind of flaw. Here a city, wracked with violence, broken with sorrow and crippled with corruption. The people are so tired of living in a society where tomorrow is not granted, that they give up on it and live day to day with no caring for what happens around them. So when a solution comes along, it doesn't matter what kind of solution it is; just as long as it guarantees a change in the societal programming. That's why people turn to crime, if you can break down the system into nothing then it has to be forced to start over and hopefully the change that comes will be better; but, most of all it will be different. That's the ripest time to strike, if you can offer a change in society then people will follow you no matter what the course is, just as long as it means something different. That's where Gotham is, it's at that point where the people are so tired of seeing another rape or murder or mugging on the news that they will willingly accept any option given to them and that allows for one to take over. To stake his claim and achieve what he's been striving for. That's what we're going to do with Gotham, we're going to offer them a solution, a change of path, something that they won't refuse when you show it to them and in the process we will gain an entire city. Money is of no importance, you can buy almost anyone off and we have enough money to set them up for life. There are; however, people who cannot be bought. People in which money is not an option, what they want is to change the society; but, keep it intact. Idealist, dangerous people who will do anything to save a society on the brink of self destruction; these sort of people will stand in your way, they mean to inspire and, their ideals spread like an infection. That infection helps the corruption to continue and the society breaks down until there is nothing left. In this town those people are Harvey Dent, Batman and James Worthington Gordon; there's no amount of money one could offer them to give up on Gotham. Dent has the legal and political power to stand up to any sort of problem that comes into this city. His skill in the courtroom can only be explained as sheer brilliance; it would only take Dent a matter of time to slow and stop any change that we may bring to Gotham and then there is the Batman…" Another sip and a smile. "…He's different; he has no legal, political or financial power; but, he has vigilance. The Batman inspires people to look at the world they live in and strive for a better one and, when those other people who come as crooks and criminals threaten that ideal the Batman is not afraid to knock them back down into the dirty pits that they came from. The process that we are going to create here is something that cannot be compromised by these two men; Gordon can be dealt with, his power is in his own mind, in his determination; but, we can block him with power and keep him from being trouble. However, Dent and the Batman must be destroyed, not only will this keep them out of out affairs; but, it will also be symbolic, it will show the people that they have nothing left to look to; that their only option lies solely with us. What happens after that is simple; the money begins to flow and we set up idols throughout the city; but, we are the controllers. Within weeks this entire city will be in turmoil and we will be there to pull it out of that disaster and then the people will be happy to surrender their lives to us. It's a plan that is supported by human nature and will not fail." Brummer concluded; Elliot smiled and agreed.

Of course there were other obstacles that came with the plan. There always going to be that one person who saw through the veil put around their eyes, or simply was too suspicious to go along quietly. They could hurt the plan to with fussing and fighting the change. Plus word of mouth was contagious, if one person said one thing then someone else would pick it up and spread the idea elsewhere, granted everyone wouldn't subscribe; but, there was the chance that _someone_ would pick up the idea and continue to spread it and after a long amount of time you would have a rebirth of people like Harvey Dent and Batman. To counter that one would offer incentives for silence, prettier streets, affordable housing; things to keep peoples minds off of what was happening elsewhere. There was; however, a group of people who weren't satisfied unless the truth was revealed, it wasn't because they necessarily cared about the truth; it was because it was their job to out the dirty secrets in society. These people left unchecked could bring down an entire operation; because these people were the most dreaded of all…

Those people were reporters.


	13. Old Friends

With a smile he showed his reporter's I.D. to the bridge guard on duty. The guard, rudely, took the I.D. and looked at it for a long moment, then looked back at the smiling man who hadn't changed his facial expression. The guard sucked his teeth and gave the I.D. back.

"We're not letting reporters in except for a few select cases…" The guard said; the man frowned and took back the I.D. and put it in his wallet and looked back at the guard with a face that showed a lack of understanding.

"I don't understand; no one told us that when we couldn't be allowed access into Gotham." The man explained.

"As you may know Gotham is going through some heavy changes and we don't need any more issues arising between now and the end of the 'cleaning up' period." The guard explained; the man frowned again.

"What could we possibly do…?" he asked; he began to chuckle. "…we're only a couple of reporters." The man half pleased.

"I understand that; but, unless you have a permit from the G.C.P.D. I can't allow you into the city." The guard said sternly; the man went to open his mouth to talk; but the driver of the car suddenly leaned over him and looked the guard directly in the eye.

"Listen…" the driver started. "…you've got ten seconds to give us clearance into the city or else I will call my boss up and change the story to how Gotham city bridge guards are incredibly inhospitable and unhygienic, then I will personal name you…" The driver squinted to see the name on the guards name tag. "…Mr. Kaloni, and make sure that you cause so much embarrassment to the G.C.P.D. that you won't be able to get a toy store security job in Alabama." The driver stopped leaning over and sat back into the driver seat. The guard paused for a moment and then raised the toll bar and the man in the passenger seat smiled before the car sped off over the bridge.

As the car speeded on the bridge there was a long silence in the car.

"You know if you wanted to scare him you could have pulled a gun out on the guy." The passenger said; the driver of the car rolled her eyes and turned on the radio.

"Sometimes you've got to be a little forceful to get anything done…"she said. "…I thought you'd know that by now." She flipped her hair and looked back at the road.

"Oh I do know that; it's just that you can be a little scary when you get that mad…" The passenger said; the driver didn't answer and _Hotel California _by the _Eagles_ played on the radio. "..Such a lovely place, such a lovely place." The passenger sang along; quickly the driver shut the radio off.

"When was the last time you were in Gotham?" the driver asked; the passenger thought for a moment.

"Not for a while; maybe a year or two..." He answered; he looked at the driver. "…why?" he asked.

"Because…"she answered very quickly. "…this can be a tough town and I don't want you getting hurt or messing up our chances at finding out what we came here to find out." The driver answered.

"In other words I should let you do all the talking?" The passenger asked; the driver nodded her head dramatically.

"Exactly same game plan as always…" she said. "…I do the talking and you do the snooping when I designate its safe." She explained; the passenger nodded and stayed in silence until the car came across the bridge and entered Gotham city. The car slowed as they drove through the streets.

"Do you think he's alright?" The passenger asked; the woman sighed and for the first time in a while seemed to have an emotion other than anger.

"…I don't know; it's hard to tell. This is the cruddiest city in the country, anything could happen…" she said as she turned a corner. "…but he's a resourceful guy, you would know better than anyone." She suggested; the passenger nodded.

"Still no one has heard anything about or from him in a month…" The passenger commented. "…It's a little strange; even for him." The passenger said with a sigh. The car suddenly jerked to a stop.

"Well if anyone can find out it's me…" She said as she got out the car; quickly the passenger followed. "…and I plan to find out" She said as she slammed the door.

The two of them stood outside the, nearly, demolished G.C.P.D.H.Q.2 building. The building was under constant surveillance and no one was allowed inside. Of course that was exactly what both people wanted to achieve. The woman walked up to the cop standing outside the building.

"Lois Lane, Daily Planet…" She introduced herself by showing her press card and quickly flipping it and putting back. "…I'm here to inspect the building on toxins and dangerous materials for a story." She quickly said. The cop looked at the woman suspiciously and shook his head.

"No one is allowed inside the building…" the cop said. "…no reporters." He concluded.

"I have a G.C.P.D. permit…" Lois began digging into her purse.

"No you don't…" the cop cut off her searching.

"...Excuse me?" Lois asked; the cop stuck his hand to do elaborate gestures.

"There are no permits for this building…" he explained. "…no one is allowed into this building." The cop concluded.

"I'm sorry; but, you're very wrong…" Lois looked the man directly in the eye. "…I've been _cleared_ to enter this building here with my partner-" she gestured at the passenger. "Now either you're going to let me in the building or I'm going to have get upset and talk to your boss; either way my partner and I are getting into this building." Lois put her hands on her hips and scowled at the man.

"No Ms. Lane-" the cop started.

"Mrs. Lane; Mr. Tribert." Lois quickly corrected quickly.

"Mrs. Lane; you seem not to understand that orders are very strict and there's nothing you can do here to get me to let you into the building." The cop explained.

"I've come all the way from Metropolis; by car, you can imagine my frustration already. Now I have to deal with you telling me I'm not getting inside…" Lois paused and gave the man a hard smile. "…Do you think I'm going to just turn around and go back?" She asked.

"Frankly, _Mrs._ Lane, I don't care what you do; but you're not getting inside…" the cop said; he then seemed to take a deep breath and mustered some courage to say. "…now I would appreciate if you left." It was clear from the moment the words left his mouth that it wasn't a good idea to speak to her in this way.

"There must be something in my face that implies that I actually _care_ about what you appreciate…" she reorganized her face. "…I'm here to do a job; I've dealt with cops like you before; there's nothing that you can do to intimidate me." Lois reached inside her purse.

"Please ma'am, keep your hands where I can see them." The cop ordered.

"Oh please I'm reaching for my cell phone…" Lois angrily responded. "..If you feel threatened maybe you should look for another profession." Lois snapped at the cop.

"Miss I don't want there to be a commotion, I'm not allowed to let you inside and there's nothing that can change that." The cop pleaded.

"Damn it…" Lois said under her breath; she looked over at her partner. "…do you have my phone?" she asked him. In a hurry he patted himself down and looked nervously at her.

"No I don't think I do Lois…" He answered.

"…God damn it." Lois spat.

"Miss-" the cop started.

"_Mrs._ Lois Lane Kent…" Lois sharply corrected. "…Clark here…" she threw a quarter at him and he did not catch it, he scrambled to catch it. Lois turned to him and her whole demeanor had changed; with a glint in her eyes she said: "…Go call Perry." Clark nodded and went down the block as Lois continued to argue with the cop.

At the end of the block Clark Kent turned the corner to view the south side of the building. When Clark had heard Bruce Wayne had gone missing, he at first dismissed it a minute problem. Wayne was a strong man and if he went missing it meant that he'd be back with a good explanation to fool the masses. But when chaos further erupted in Gotham and there was no sign of Batman Clark knew that something was a foot. Metropolis was a big city to police on his own; but, Clark knew Bruce had his hands full Gotham. Whereas Metropolis had its good days, Gotham had its bad and worse days. Bruce and Clark had both agreed not to step into one another's territory as to avoid the crossing of criminal minds. So at first Clark figured not going to Gotham would be the best choice; but, being a reporter Clark knew the things that were happening in Gotham and began to feel as if Bruce wasn't able to help. With some prodding from Lois Clark began to investigate the situation in Gotham. At first no one would answer any of his questions; but, Clark remembered Bruce speaking highly of one cop in particular. So Clark reached out to a James Worthington Gordon; who at first seemed totally disinterested with talking to the press, and inquired on the whereabouts of Batman. It was at the mention of Batman did Gordon seem more interested. Gordon confessed everything about the explosion, how he found the mask and suspected that Batman was either in very bad shape or dead; but, it was certain that someone was trying to cover up what happened on the roof that night. That was what convinced Clark that his help might be needed in Gotham. Clark used Lois to convince Perry to turn Bruce Wayne's one month disappearance back into a story. Once Perry was on board Clark intended to head out alone; but, Lois insisted that she go along.

"You know you're going to need my help…" she insisted. "…plus I've known him longer than you have."

Clark was smart enough to know that he wasn't going to be able to talk her out of going and agreed to let her come along. Here they were now in Gotham city looking for some kind of clue that would help them find Bruce Wayne. There was most certainly something very different about Gotham; the news channels reported nightly about the new change of power I the city; but, they didn't explain the drastic change that had occurred in the feeling of the city. It moved slower; there was a slight feel of remorse in the city. To see Gotham this way bothered Clark; he knew how hard Bruce struggled to make Gotham a better place and, it seemed that ; however, much effort he put into making Gotham work was overshadowed by some criminal or some form corruption that shook the cities political integrity. Yet; Bruce never complained, he always fought harder and fought his battles with a stern force that only prevailed time after time. The biggest problem was that Bruce Wayne was human; he didn't have powers, he needs to eat, he needs to sleep and he has another life that requires attention or, quite possibly, both entities could be destroyed. It was a wonder how Bruce managed to juggle all of these things and not go insane; the differences between Clark and Bruce were large. Clark had consciously decided to become a reporter because it didn't demand him all the time plus, he could use both his lives to help the other; Bruce had been thrown into owning Wayne Enterprises and he had to constantly be aware that he needed to keep Wayne Enterprises afloat in order to support the existence of Batman. Being the C.E.O. of the largest company in the state required most of Bruce's time; but, Batman required most of his time as well. Clark had a enemy who appeared most of the time: Lex Luthor, whenever Superman had to deal with some bomb exploding, or some sort of strange occurrence threatening the people of Metropolis Superman knew that it was more than likely some kind of plan enacted by the man who hated him the most. Batman didn't have that; sure he had repeat offenders; but, he didn't have someone who were the majority of his problems mostly _all_ of Gotham was Batman's problem. Whenever there was some serial killer, thief or rapist menacing Gotham Batman had to start from square one and figure out who the person was and how to stop them. Batman; however, had the worse problem of all, a problem Superman had at one point; but, had solved: a woman. Clark knew about Selena, as most people did, and he also knew that Selena did not know about Bruce's other life. When Clark was keeping Superman a secret from Lois he knew that if anyone found out about his involvement with her as Clark Kent that she would be the first person they went after. The same still held true now; but, the difference was that Lois was wiser now; she knew the threat that might come to her and she was more prepared. Selena was clueless; if anyone of Batman's enemies were to ever find out about his being Bruce Wayne then Selena would be the most preferred target and, without Bruce explaining the danger to her and revealing himself Selena would be unprepared to protect herself. There were other problems as well, such as the one that had recently occurred, clever, cunning people who would stop at nothing just to see Batman destroyed; the protection of Gotham was no longer the problem now, it came down to protecting himself and for a man who could be shot, stabbed, burned, crippled, strangled, electrocuted or, any other form of destruction, that was the hardest thing of all to avoid. Clark; however, knew that heroes had an advantage over villains in on particular category,

Friendship.

Clark smiled to himself; Bruce would find it to be too cliché to say; but, friendship was something villains didn't have. Alliances, partnerships, yes; but, those things ended over the course of time, or at the end of a heist. But with people like Batman and Superman there was no end. Had Superman ever needed the assistance of Batman he could guarantee that Batman would be there. In fact that's how they met; when an ex-botanist turned into a deranged criminal calling her self "Poison Ivy" attacked and killed a politician in Gotham for ordering the removal of Gotham Botanical Garden she moved onto Metropolis to stop Lex Luthor from destroying acres of wilderness by poisoning the water supply and releasing toxic spores that threatened to overgrow Metropolis in growth that would further produce the spore, Superman found himself unfamiliar; yet, effected by the deadly spores. Batman came to Metropolis after following Poison Ivy and inoculated Superman with an antidote, it was then that Superman took the advantage to use his X-ray vision to uncover that Bruce Wayne was Batman. It was a surprise beyond surprises; but, Superman gave no indication that he knew and they went about their separate ways. It was later that night, when Clark, had flown home and settled on his couch to watch some, much deserved, television he noticed that his window was open and when he went to close it he could see Batman across the way smiling at him watching his every move. Batman waved and disappeared into the night; and later on Clark realized that the inoculation must have also had some form of tracking device inside. It was then that Clark found himself very fond of Bruce/Batman, a secret that Clark had kept for years had suddenly been revealed to Batman in a matter of hours, since then the two had become friends, working every so often together to bring down something much larger than the two of them; but now was something different, now it seemed as if Superman had to come save Batman from whatever was hunting him.

Clark looked to his left and then his right to make sure no one was around and the coast was clear, he took a deep breath and his feet slowly lifted off from the ground. Fortunate for Clark most, if not all, of the residential buildings had been evacuated after the explosion and remained that way until this day. The higher he went the faster he accelerated himself to the roof. Clark rarely flew outside of his Superman suit; it was too dangerous and would most certainly draw attention if he was spotted. Even now he felt severely uncomfortable flying up to roof in his regular clothes; in a way it felt wrong, perverse.

Luckily for Clark the roof wasn't very high up and he was on top of it within a few moments. It looked as if most of the work had _not _been completed as some of the news reported because a lot of debris was still on top of the building. Clark floated just a few inches above the debris looking through the debris to see the actual roof. It was Lois' idea to check this building, she insisted that there would be some clue left on the roof; but, Clark couldn't see what could be left. Two weeks of, supposed, work on the roof plus weathering and whatever else happens on roofs would most certainly have gotten rid of any evidence left. Lois; however, was positive that something was left on the roof. Briefly Clark looked over the edge of the roof to see Lois arguing, more violently, with the officer and now one of his colleagues. She was good, there was denying that, all he had to do was find something of interest on the roof. Clark landed and without any effort moved debris around; he examined the debris, turned it over, looked at it closely and found nothing. Clark wasn't sure what to look for, what could he find that would put him on the trail to find Bruce? He stopped for a moment to think. The news reported Harvey Dent was found on the roof with severe damage to his face and Gordon had confirmed that bit of news; but, added that Batman had to have been on the roof too because he found Batman's mask on the roof and people on the roof were looking for his body. If it was true that Bruce was on the roof at the time of the explosion then wherever he was now, whether alive or dead, he would have considerable damage on his body. He would have burns from the fire, broken bones from the impact, cuts from the flying debris. That was it, cuts would have blood. Blood residue would be left on the roof, even with weathering and washing and all other sorts of things blood residue would be left behind. To see that though, Clark would need a black light or a clever way to recreate that process. Fortunately he did have the latter.

Clark floated a little higher and took off his glasses. Clark concentrated; he knew if he could thin out his heat vision he could heat up the properties of the room from the inside and upon cooling, any residues that where on the roof, would become momentarily visible due to the difference in temperature between itself and the actual roof. The heat started to flow from his eyes and, instead of being concentrated, came out more like a sheet of paper and laid on top of the roof and went through the debris. For a moment nothing happened and Clark was getting discouraged, perhaps his plan wasn't going to work; but, after a while the roof began to glow and pulsate with the heat. Another few moments passed and the pulsating glow began to fade, that's when everything started to appear. As expected there was a lot of residue on the roof; but, because Harvey had suffered so much blood loss on the roof it was easy to see where Harvey laid at the end of the ordeal; from seeing that Clark could tell what was blood residue and what was not, combined with his X-ray vision he could see through the debris and see where one would have stood on top of the roof after the explosion, even if they were buried.

It didn't take long to find a blood residue trail that lead right off the roof, Clark followed it and it seemed to go on in the direction of another room. Using his super speed, as not to be seen, Clark flew to the other roof and did the same and found the same results. It was unlikely that anyone else could have gone roof to roof other than Batman. Clark followed the blood residue all the way to the other side of Gotham and, soon nightfall came and he was still following a trail; but, the residue was getting less worn, which meant that the blood was getting to be fresher then suddenly it stopped. Clark looked around and listened carefully for any sound; he was in a strange part of Gotham standing on a house rooftop, rather than a building. Clark turned and looked south urban Gotham was far, this must've been the suburbs.

"So you are alive…" Clark said out loud; he turned west to a bigger house lying down on the roof, with his back resting on the chimney was Batman. "…we were starting to get worried." Clark said; there was no movement from Batman at first; but, his voice came out of the darkness.

"How long have I been missing in action?" Batman asked; Clark thought for a moment and started to float to the roof Batman was on.

"Bruce Wayne has been missing for a month and a week; Batman isn't technically missing, since the Bat signal is down not many people have noticed your lack of appearances; but, those who have say you've been gone for about three weeks." Clark explained; Batman nodded and stood up.

"Those who have noticed…" Batman repeated. "…Gordon?" Batman asked.

"Who else…?" Clark responded. "…He's been keeping your escape a secret most of the people involved with the explosion, apparently, think you're dead." Clark went on.

"Brummer and his men." Batman revealed; Clark nodded.

"What happened?"

"The last couple of weeks I've been listening to things on the street about him; he had this man named Raymond Hernandez kidnap me in an effort to get Selena to call out Batman; at the same time he had been sending Harvey Dent messages, disguised as me to lure him to the Bat signal that night as well, then when we both arrived he planned to kill the two of us, as to call Gotham into martial law and use the corruption he's built to virtually take over Gotham…" Batman stood and looked away. "…How is Dent?" He asked.

"He's alive, he's just been removed from his medically induced coma; his face has been badly scarred and he lost a lot of blood; but, there's an overwhelmingly large chance that he'll survive with little complications other than his face." Clark explained. Batman nodded; Clark noticed there was something different in his demeanor; but, he kept it to himself.

"Seeing as you have already examined me you can tell me how I'm holding up as well." Batman suggested; Clark smiled, he hadn't even changed the way he was looking at Bruce; but, somehow he knew he had screened his body.

"Looks like you've healed pretty well…" Clark started. "…you've still got three broken ribs, a few burns and I wouldn't be above saying a concussion that needs tending to." Clark listed off.

"It'll have to wait…" Batman said; suddenly the Dark Knight had returned. "…Whether or not you came tonight was the night I was going to go after Brummer and his men." Batman explained; quickly Clark felt protest coming to his mouth.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea-" Clark began.

"There's nothing you can say to talk me out of it…" Batman walked over to Clark. "…Brummer and his men have relocated to an abandoned building in South Gotham, they've been clearing it up to become his headquarters; they're all going to be there tonight and I'm going to…" he stopped to find a proper word. "…apprehend them" There was something strange in Bruce's eyes that Clark had not seen before.

"Are you sure there's nothing I can say to convince you not to go there until you've healed better…?" Clark asked. "…I could get in touch with Diana you could lay low with her for a while." Clark suggested.

"No, I don't need Diana's help…" Batman said.

"Do you need my help?" Clark asked; Batman nodded.

"…Just for one thing." Batman said.

"What's that?" Clark asked; Batman took out his grappling hook and shot it.

"There's this large steel door preventing me from getting into the basement…"


	14. Deadly Confrontation

The large steel door stood there like a silver behemoth and Clark stood in front of it unaffected.

"This is it…?" Clark asked. "…I'm sure you have some kind of device that could have opened this door for you." Clark said; he looked around and could, honestly, not see where Batman was.

"Those devices cost money…" Batman's voice echoed; indicating he was inside the building. "…I'm trying to be cost efficient." Clark chuckled.

"Are you sure you want me to go…?" Clark asked. "…Lois and I are in the city for a couple days, I could do some back up for you." Clark suggested.

"Trust me…" Batman said; his voice was further away. "…you'll want to stay away from this." Clark knew that he was now out of ear shot; but, what Batman just said worried him. Clark had no choice though and so he walked away, unsure of what was coming next for his friend.

Fixing up the building was going to take a while; but, getting it to be operational didn't have to take forever. Brummer was working his men to their fullest potential. Soon there would be city hall and here. The heads of the city would all come here to ask him for support and advice. The plan had worked far better than he could have expected. The politicians fell in line and the people of Gotham willingly surrendered their city to him. Within a couple of weeks he would be one of the most powerful men in the country and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

It didn't matter what was going to come next; what he had now was priceless.

"Mr. Brummer…" A man's voice came from behind Brummer as he looked over the edge of the building; Brummer turned around to see Elliot standing there with papers in his hand. "..There's a few things I need to go over with you." He said.

"Of course…" Brummer answered.

"Well it's about time we discussed the payments and payoffs." Elliot suggested; Brummer nodded in agreement.

"I pay you to do those things." He said.

"Yes; but, I like you to know what I'm doing with _your_ money" Elliot answered; Brummer smiled widely and put his arm on Elliot's shoulder.

"_That_ is why I pay you."

"Well; first off is Raymond; he's here, his initial payment was to be nine hundred thousand upon agreeing to take the job and seven million upon completing it, with a chance of a bonus for a job very well done." Elliot explained.

"…and that he has done…" Brummer said. "…put in another five million for him." Brummer suggested.

"Fine; he wants a direct deposit in a safe account _not_ in the country…" Elliot explained.

"Swiss…?" Brummer asked.

"Either that or Japanese, we have a slightly better relation with our Japanese friends and might be able to lower the interest considerably more than their Swiss counterparts." Elliot explained.

"The Japanese it is."

"The next is the commissioner; he's claiming he's going to need a bigger incentive to keep the G.C.P.D. under your control…" Elliot flipped through some papers. "…he says he has mounting pressure from the media and that he can't make everything look…" Elliot cleared his throat. "…'fine and dandy' while things are falling apart."

"Fine give him more money, it doesn't matter, he'll soon be out the door." Brummer waved off the subject with his hand.

"The next is the new D.A. being put in office; he claims the since he's been rumored to become chief D.A. he's gotten everything from death threats to large sums of money to keep certain criminals out of prison." Elliot explained.

"What does he want?" Brummer asked; confused.

"Protection and a bigger incentive." Elliot simply answered; Brummer nodded.

"Everyone wants a bigger incentive" Brummer said with a smile.

"It's human nature…" Elliot said. "…You give an inch and they all want a mile."

"Indeed; how important is it that we have this guy?" Brummer asked.

"It depends if Harvey Dent is cleared for work again." Elliot answered.

"What are the chances of that?" Brummer walked over to a desk that had been put in the building so he could sit and do work while construction continued below.

"Slim to none, even if he's physically fit, his mental capacity will be shot or he won't want to even continue as D.A." Elliot said.

"If that's the case then we'll need him won't we?"

"For the time being; just to hold together the system we're helping to create." Elliot explained blandly.

"So give him what he wants and when he's not needed anymore take it all back." Brummer said sitting down; looking at his computer screen.

"There's also the cleanup fee…" Elliot walked over to the desk. "…Do you want the building condemned?" Elliot asked.

"No, I want it fixed…" Brummer looked up from the computer. "…the people are going to need something to believe in and as soon as the G.C.P.D. seems workable again the people will rally behind anything we say, giving us more power." Brummer explained.

"The other thing has to do with Bruce Wayne…" Elliot started.

Bruce Wayne was the one thorn in Brummer's side; when Brummer returned and found his guard dead and Bruce Wayne gone, he did his best to keep his temper; But, now the man had been gone for a couple of weeks, and at the cell there was blood the seemingly couldn't have come from the guard because he had no wounds. So in Brummer's estimation Bruce Wayne was probably dead; but, if he was not, then that meant problems for him.

"What's wrong?" Brummer explained.

"Nothing; but, we're going to have to address his disappearance sooner or later…" Elliot explained. "…you can't just have the richest most powerful man in Gotham vanish and not explain whether he's alive or dead."

"Right; but, we don't know if he's alive or dead." Brummer said.

"Indeed; but, we need to say something." Elliot insisted.

"We'll hold a press conference and declare that we found D.N.A. of Wayne's and a body and that we're not sure if Bruce Wayne is alive or dead but the investigation is taking a turn to more information…" Brummer explained. "…That way if he does come back, we can take credit and if he doesn't we'll claim we've done all we could." Brummer explained.

"Sounds wonderful sir…" Elliot said; Elliot's phone rang and he picked it up. There was a quick set of answers and a very worried look from Elliot. "…That was one of our men down at the morgue" Elliot explained to Brummer with a concerned face.

"Yes; what is it?" Brummer asked; now worried himself from the look on Elliot's face.

"…They said no body came through; that it was all a fix up from James Gordon…" Elliot explained.

"What?!" Brummer stood up.

"…They're saying that they never got a body for the Batman." Elliot fully answered.

"If they didn't find a body then that means…" Brummer slightly panicked. "…that means that the Batman is still alive."

And then all the lights went out.

The portable radios on every man's hip blared 'full scale red alert!' and for a minute and a half all the lights were off until the auxiliary power came on. The auxiliary lights were all orange and dimmer set than the other lights. The eerie glow the lights caused made for a chaotic and confusing scene on all floors. All the men were armed with semi-automatic guns and getting into interceptive positions lining up at every stair case and by the elevator. On the first floor the men stood next to the edge of the building holding guns out to the entrance seeing that it was the only place someone could come from. The men stood there with no fear holding their guns right out ready to fire. What they couldn't see was Batman standing on the steel bar above them; watching every move, calculating his attack. With careful silence Batman jumped from the beam and landed on one of the guards. In surprise the guard yelped and shot his gun, hitting two of the guards in front of him and wounding a third. All the guards instantly turned to the gunfire; but, when they all turned to see what happened the Batman was gone. From the darkness two batarangs shot out and forced two guns out of two guard's hands and, no sooner than the guns were hit the Batman was there to knock their heads together. At that moment he was spotted, the guards rushed him guns blazing; but, Batman was too fast and too clever. Within moments most of the men were disarmed, one guard came charging with a knife in his hand. Without effort Batman twisted the man's arm back and used his own arm to stab the man in his own back, the man yelled loudly and slumped over. Batman then took the knife out of his back and swung it strongly; slashing the guard's, in front of him, neck. More guards attacked and one came with a strong left hand punch; but, Batman caught the arm and twisted it back, snapping the arm like a toothpick under pressure. Before the man could hit the ground Batman picked his body up and held it like a shield protecting himself from the hailing bullets. Now there were only three men left; Batman shot off the grappling hook and disappeared into the darkness. Instinctively the men shot towards the direction; but, there was no sign of anything. The three men all shot until they used their entire magazines and at the very moment that they all ran out of ammo they knew that was what the Batman was waiting for. Quickly they all tried to reload their weapons; but, one man was faster had the others and had his magazine in quickly; he would be the first to fall.

The man never noticed Batman standing directly behind him, until Batman kicked him behind the left kneecap causing him to fall to one knee. Batman held his arm upright and when the man squeezed the trigger out of pure surprise the two other men suffered gunshots two the neck and the head and fell to the ground like rag dolls. The last man hit the ground and Batman turned him over.

"Where is Brummer…?" The Batman asked; stone faced, his eyes were like slits in the dark night sky looking down at the guard as if he was an ant. The guard mumbled and stuttered his words together, prompting Batman to break three of his fingers with a single twist. The man screamed; but, also told Batman what he wanted to know.

"He's on the sixteenth floor!" The man yelled; Batman took the man's gun and dismantled it and threw the barrel out of a window.

"Tell them I'm coming up" The Batman demanded as he handed the man his portable radio and turned away towards the elevator.

On floor ten the guards stood tense when they heard the radio blare "Its Batman he's coming up for Brummer by the elevator he's-" his voice crackled off. That didn't help the mood; the elevator had started to move and was coming up to their floor. The elevator was part of the original building which only went to the tenth floor; the remaining floors had been built after the building was decommissioned, from the tenth floor the only way to any other floors were a small staircase and a moving platform. The elevator has also been stripped down and was only separated from the floor by a metal gate. Essentially you could see the elevator and all its contents from wherever, so when the elevator was in eye view of the floor everyone could see that the Batman was, in fact, not on it. The elevator did; however, stop on the tenth floor and the gate opened like usual; but, nothing happened. Several of the men approached the elevator with their guns ready, they walked up to the quiet elevator with a silence that conveyed their cautiousness. Three of the men walked into the elevator and inspected the inside from top to bottom. They couldn't see anything; despite what was normally an elevator there was nothing out of the blue. But then who set up the elevator? The men made sure they checked the elevator several times before one of the men turned to the rest.

"There's nothing…" He said; looking back up to make sure his statement was correct. "…it's all clear." No sooner than he finished saying that a snap sounded with a loud echo and the entire elevator careened downwards to the basement; several of the men standing near the elevator fell backwards at the sudden jolt of velocity that came from the sudden falling of the elevator. That was the last the ever saw; Batman's boots came crashing down on two of the men's chest and the others suffered several kicks to the face. Several men tried to shoot at Batman; but, found themselves disarmed before long. One man tried to hit Batman with the butt of his rifle; but, Batman blocked with his arm and took the man's head and twisted it, unnaturally to the side causing a louder than normal crack. The man's body fell very slowly to the ground and Batman stood over the many broken men. That's when Batman saw the one guard trying to escape; Batman didn't move instead he took out his grappling hook and shot. The hook entered the man's body through the left side of his lower back. The man screamed loudly at the impact of the hook; but, began to yell more energetically when Batman decided to retract the hook. The man's body dragged slowly as Batman retracted the hook and when the man was a couple of feet away from Batman the hook suddenly exited the man's body in a bloody mess.

Completely unaffected by blood and ear piercing screaming coming from the man, Batman took his boot and pushed it down on the wound.

"You thought you could take this city that easily?" Batman asked as he pressed harder; the man yelled for another few moments and then fell silently. Apparently falling unconscious from the wound or the fear and, when that happened Batman kicked his body away and stood up straight.

The punch blindsided him and lifted his body clean off the ground and the impact from hitting the floor again knocked the wind out of him so hard that Batman coughed a dry body shaking dry heave. Standing in the spot that Batman was standing was the muscular and dangerous Raymond Hernandez. Raymond stood there in a black leather vest equipped with all sorts of weapons and matching fatigue pants equipped with even more weapons. Muscles bulging at every point and eyes set to kill. Batman looked up quick enough to see Raymond take out a large automatic weapon; before a shot could be taken the grappling hook was ejected and Batman was soaring up away from the gunfire. Batman's boot hit Raymond in the face, sending the large man stumbling back slightly. A back handed punch followed Batman's kick; but, Raymond caught the arm with ease and tossed Batman into a wall. The sheer force of the throw caused Batman's vision to blur when he hit the wall. Batman breathed, trying to regain some composure; but, before he could Raymond had landed a hard punch into Batman's gut. Blood erupted from Batman's mouth and his body was lifted up and tossed towards the center of the floor. Batman managed to get up to intercept a hard punch from Raymond, Batman was able to use Raymond's force to overshoot the punch and kick Raymond's back ankle. This threw the, behemoth, man off balance and opened up the opportunity for Batman to knee him in the gut with as much force as possible; but, to Batman's surprise Raymond's gut was like steel and did very little to faze Raymond so he followed it up with a knee to the face. Raymond's body swung to the left from the force of the hit; but, instead of falling over the body gained momentum and spun three hundred sixty degrees and Raymond's backhand landed squarely on Batman's cheek. Totally unprepared for a counter that fast, Batman's body rolled backwards and stopped in front of a broken steel pipe. Batman struggled to stand up straight; but, managed to keep his eyes centered on the pipe. Batman knelt picked up the pipe; with a quick spin Batman hit Raymond in the center of his back causing him to fall straight on his face; Raymond didn't waste time thinking of his pain; he rolled over quickly; but, Batman smashed the pipe on his fingers with a brute force that couldn't match anything; but, a wild beast. Raymond yelled out loud and his other hand reached out and snatched the pipe from Batman's hands causing it to suddenly smack against his chin. Batman's body lifted off the ground and his back hit the floor like a brick onto steel. Batman felt his teeth smash together and his lip exploded sending out blood and bits of teeth. Raymond's monstrous body came flying towards Batman; but, a quick lifting of a leg sent Raymond flying over Batman and onto the ground behind him. Raymond managed to break the ground and he fell through the floor to the ground below on floor nine. As quickly as he could Batman got up and followed Raymond by jumping through the hole. Batman's cape helped slow the fall; however, Raymond was on top of the situation and shoulder tackled Batman and sent his body hurling into a wall. The impact caused the wall to smash and the electrical wiring shocked Batman's body and brought him to his knees. The sheer shock the electrocution made Batman's body shake and tremble; his hands shook violently for a moment; but, Batman closed his eyes and gained control. Raymond must've been taking the same time to keep his body in check as well because an attack didn't come. In a flash Batman took out a batarang and tossed it; but, without much moment Raymond caught the batarang and crushed it with his hands.

Batman felt his heart sink briefly.

Breathing heavily and, seemingly, bleeding from every point on their bodies, Batman and Raymond stared at each other trying to recover their bearings. At that moment the two men were equals; both knew that they had an equal chance of defeating the other and both knew that in order to win they would both have to be as ruthless as possible. Batman stood up straight; suit smoking from the brief electrocution, wiped the blood from his face and watched Raymond.

Batman rushed forward towards Raymond and Raymond stood defensively. Batman took three punches and missed the first two; but, the third landed its mark on Raymond's chest, some counters came from Raymond; but, Batman was quick enough to dodge them. A hard straight forward kick came from Raymond and Batman caught the kick and brought his elbow down on the kneecap as hard as he could; Batman could feel the crunch of the bone suddenly snapping out of place; Raymond yelled louder than he had ever yelled before in his entire life. Dealing with the pain Raymond picked his body off the ground and brought his other foot across Batman's face. Both men, once again, ended up on the floor and Raymond was almost incapable of standing, so while sitting up Raymond snapped his leg back into place with a crack that even Batman could hear. Batman stood up just as Raymond rushed him, pulling a knife from one of his pouches. A quick stab missed its target and Batman was able to pry the knife from Raymond's hands and take three quick stabs to his chest that landed perfectly causing blood to spill again. After the third stab Raymond was strong enough to smack Batman's chest so hard that the knife flew out of his hands like a bullet out of a gun. Fist pounded Batman's face and he was suddenly unable to defend himself, Raymond's hands clutched over Batman's neck and squeezed.

This was the end; there was nothing Batman could do to escape this man, his grip was immense. Batman could feel his lungs collapsing, he felt his eyes starting to lose focus and then he felt the terrible crash of Raymond's fist against his cheek. Batman felt himself fall in such a slow speed. The ground came politely up to him and then with a rude crack rocked his skull so hard that he bounced off the ground and landed again.

Was he dead? Was this just some kind of dream you had in the midst of dying? Some sort of free form dreaming that the body went though as it shut down; a way for the body to explain the pain it was feeling or, was this real? Was Batman actually suffering this much? Was this man actually destroying what was left of his body?

As if to answer Raymond's breath came on Batman's face; Batman couldn't say anything, his voice was gone.

Then…

There was no way for Batman to be sure what Raymond did to him; but, pain shot through his body like no other. Everything was a blur, one moment he was on the ground, the next flying through the air; then again back on the ground. The pain was so immense that he couldn't even tell it all apart from each other anymore. Somehow Batman's eyes centered on Raymond and again, somehow he managed to stand. His whole body couldn't stand still, every nerve, muscle and bone was begging for him to die. Every cell in his body was praying for a heart attack or a seizure or a stroke of some sort to end the pain; but, somehow he stood. Raymond stood up right and seemed fine, despite the wreckage of a body he had.

In the sea of thoughts going through his brain one thought seemed to repeat over and over. The loss of blood was beginning to take his toll; his chest was beginning to go cold. Suddenly a thought came to mind, something he hadn't thought of in what seemed to be a long time.

Selena.

He wasn't sure why all of a sudden he thought of her; but, he face appeared in front of his face. Maybe it was a hallucination from the pain, maybe it wasn't; but, at that moment he knew he had to live. Batman's body stood up straight all of a sudden and he didn't do anything; but, reach slowly for a batarang. Raymond smirked; Batman leaned his arm back and tossed the batarang at full force. With all of Batman's hope, the batarang flew through the air at Raymond; but, again he caught it in his bare hands. Raymond's body jerked up and down and a laugh bellowed from his body. His body hurt from the laughing; but, it continued.

"Don't you learn?" Raymond asked; there was a long pause and Batman opened his mouth.

"Don't you?" Batman responded; that's when the batarang beeped and suddenly exploded in his hand. The sheer force of the explosion sent Raymond's body hurling back and his hand was completely blown off. The bloody stub bled crazily as Raymond squirmed on his back; suddenly he was on his knees, swearing loudly as his right hand bled. That's when he felt the second batarang pierce his chest. Raymond's eyes focused on Batman and in that one moment he could plainly see that there was no remorse in Batman's eyes. There was no hint that this second batarang was a mistake; in that moment Raymond Fernandez knew he was going to die.

The second explosion was, seemingly, more powerful. It caused his cape to billow and he had to close his eyes from the flash. Raymond's body stood no more, now it was destroyed in a pool of blood and bone. What was left of Raymond Hernandez could not even be identified as human. There was no head, no arms and a large whole where one would assume a chest to be. The body moved a little though as the nerves and muscles settled into their states. The site was eerie; but, Batman felt nothing. Instead he just turned away from the bloody wreckage and continued on his way.

Brummer hurriedly packed papers and files into a briefcase; he had to get out of here in time. His mind was racing, in his desperation he had shot Elliot. Brummer knew that no one could expose him for what he had done, if that happened he would have absolutely nothing to hold onto in his life. He'd be outed, he'd be ruined for life, all the power and money would be lost within moments and he couldn't allow that to happen. The wind blew, the floor he was on was one of the floors missing a western wall, he could see out to Gotham from here. Even at this time of night the city was bright; to think he owned all of that and it could all end in a moment was mind boggling. Brummer packed some of the last few papers in his briefcase and then began to go to the exit; but, as he began to leave the Batman appeared, bloodied bruised and broken; however, Batman seemed horridly scary and deadly. Brummer stumbled over himself for a moment and then ran to the elevator and pressed the button; but, there was no response. Brummer, shocked at the lack of response, turned to see Batman face to face with him. Batman's arms grabbed Brummer and picked him up, then tossed him over to the other side.

"No don't!" Brummer begged; but Batman seemed not to hear a thing, instead he walked over to Brummer and picked him up again and took him over to the missing wall, looking deep into his eyes Batman opened his mouth.

"You should never underestimate the power of a city trying to save itself." Batman said; his voice was stern; but, at the same time cracked.

"You can have the city back; just let me go." Brummer pleaded.

"Forgiveness is not up to the judge; but rather to the criminal." Batman said; walking closer to the missing wall. Suddenly anger filled Brummer.

"You won't kill me you can't…" Brummer explained. "…It's against everything in your nature." Brummer said with a bit of a laugh. When said, Batman released Brummer slightly.

"You're right…" Batman said; but something in his eyes reverted. "…but then again, you killed Batman." And with that Batman pushed Brummer through the gaping missing wall and his body fell from the sixteenth floor down to the ground below. Batman didn't watch, he turned way and forgot everything.


	15. The End?

Five months later…

The sun shone on downtown Gotham like a smile from heaven. The streets were warm and so were the people. It had taken a long time to get this way; but, Gotham was here. It wasn't perfect; but, it wasn't what it was months ago. The government had rolled back into its usual state, minus some of the corrupted people; such as Commissioner Charleston. Immediately following the investigation of the carnage that had occurred in the abandoned building that Brummer was fixing, Charleston stepped down from office without so much as an explanation; however, with all that was happening very few people noticed or, cared that Charleston stepped down. He did have a reason though and that reason was James Gordon. Realizing that it was in fact Batman who had killed the men in the building, Charleston insisted on bringing charges against the 'vigilante serial killer'; but, there was something in Gordon that did not support that idea. First of all there was no hard evidence that Batman was the person who committed the crimes, aside from some of the people who survived claiming it was him; but, they were criminals in their own right so their testimonies wouldn't hold up in court. There was no sense in tarnishing the reputation of a man who had done so much for the city; so, Gordon presented the photos Batman had given him and an ultimatum to Commissioner Charleston. The choices were: either Charleston could continue to try to bring charges against Batman and risk the photos being leaked to the media or, he could step down and drop all the charges and save himself the embarrassment. Charleston, of course, chose the latter and Gordon didn't have to think anymore of it. Brummer survived the fall; but, only barely he was still alive; but, faced a larger problem. All his corruption and pay offs were revealed due to a cleverly written report in the Metropolis newspaper "The Daily Planet". The report detailed many things, from illegal pay offs to the kidnapping of Bruce Wayne (who had since been found with some painful injuries) and was the driving force to prosecute Brummer who had only come out of a coma one month ago. A separate piece in the _Daily Planet_ written by, veteran writer, Lois Lane criticized the G.C.P.D. and brought shame to the organization; but, praised one man: James Worthington Gordon. Because of the article Gordon was promoted to Chief Lieutenant and the G.C.P.D. was thoroughly cleaned out and, a lot, of the corrupted cops were removed from their places and replaced with new ones from Police Departments all around the country. As mentioned before; Bruce Wayne was found with considerable injuries to his body; but, thankfully found alive and recovered from most of his injuries within a few months. Harvey Dent had a similar fate, though his injuries were permanent. The left side of his face was completely loss; the skin wouldn't grow back; but, the burns from the explosion managed to sear his blood ducts and keep him from dying of blood loss. However; his injuries were gruesome, the left side of his face was just a mess of discolored muscles, the skin had been cut off from his chin to the top of his forehead, he had no more eyelid and that caused partial blindness in that eye, as well as his ears being badly burned and left hand. Dent was physical able; however, and continued to serve as D.A. after a psychological evaluation that found nothing wrong with his mental capacity aside from some high levels of 'stress'.

Bruce Wayne rarely visited hospitals after being in the one his parents were pronounced dead in; but, today he decided to visit one person in particular. The scarring on his face had healed quickly and his bruised lip had gone down in swelling. Wayne looked almost completely back to normal when he entered the hospital room. Brummer sat laid there in the bed hooked up to a breathing machine, making feeble sounds as his body moved up and down. The sunlight from the outside filled the room with a warm hug; Bruce Wayne sat on the chair next to the bed. For a moment he didn't say anything, and then he smiled.

"I came to you to ask for forgiveness…" Bruce said; Brummer couldn't move; but, his eyes fell onto Bruce. "…Sometimes when a man is threatened he reverts to being a Neanderthal; and when I lost my mind that day I couldn't control what I was doing…" Bruce continued. "...but forgiveness is not up to the judge; but rather to the criminal and I'm trying to forgive myself." Bruce didn't say anymore, he didn't wait for a response; he just left the room and walked down the hall to the exit.

What he didn't see was Harvey Dent coming from the other end of the hall walking into the same room he had just come out of. Harvey was business as usual and as he entered the room he began to speak.

"Mr. Chaderline Brummer you are being formally charged with embezzlement and corruption this is a formality and it would be much easier if you just agreed to understand the charges set against you…" Dent said; it was then that he realized that Brummer's heart rate was excelled. The beeping of the monitor was frantic and Brummer was reaching up to Harvey trying to speak. "…what are you saying?" Harvey asked; he leaned closer to Brummer and put his ear next to Brummer's mouth.

The whisper was nothing more than a light echo on the wind; but, it spoke louder than anything Harvey Dent had ever heard before. Within moments of the whisper Brummer died. Harvey seemed not to notice; he stood there stunned for five minutes and then left without saying a word to anyone. He was silent as he left the hospital, he was silent on the street, and he was silent on the drive home.

It wasn't until Dent went into the bathroom did Harvey open his mouth to speak. He looked at his own reflection in the mirror. Perfectly smooth face, two good eyes, and undamaged ears. He stared at the reflection that was him not so long ago and then decided to take off the face mask designed to look like his former self. Dent then stared at his real reflection. A chaotic mess of twisted muscle and nerves, discolored by surgeries and medicines and infections. Harvey Dent stared at his own reflection and then repeated what Chaderline Brummer had whispered in his eat. The right side of his face moved and the left horridly damaged side remained perfectly still.

"Bruce Wayne is Batman"

The End


	16. Preview of The Next Story

Thanks everyone for reading the story; I really appreciate everyone reading and reviewing the story. Honestly without all the people who reviewed it I would probably not have finished the story.

There is another part to this story and so that you're not waiting forever I'm going to provide a preview/synopsis of the next story.

Once again; thanks again for reading and enjoy the next book.

Synopsis:

Batman and James Gordon have joined forces to bring down two of the most violent criminals in Gotham: Edward E. Nigma and Killer Croc (who has sense escaped from Prison and was reprehended by Batman) and with the help of Harvey Dent both criminals will most certainly go to federal prison; but, when Harvey Dent's behavior becomes erratic Batman starts to wonder if waiting for Dent is the best idea. With mounting pressure from the entire G.C.P.D., including Gordon, Batman must stand and watch as Harvey Dent's behavior becomes more and more dangerous…


End file.
